This week's opening shot is a close-up of an SUV with two stickers on the back: one's an American flag, and the other says "Support our Troops." We know these are being displayed in an ironic context -- on top of the fact that anything between the title sequence and the closing credits on this show is automatically ironic context. The first bit of context? A young blonde woman, sitting in that SUV in a parking lot, crying. Until she drops her keys into her purse and gets out, at which time we see that the parking lot belongs to a VA hospital. See? Ironic context.
Want more? The blonde woman, now inside the hospital, draws the curtains around the bed of a wounded soldier. How do I know he's wounded? The fact that he's as legless as Ruth's grandmother was my first clue. The stump hanging from his left shoulder was my second. And the maze of scars on the right side of his face was the clincher. Thanks, Six Feet Under, for putting me in a position where I'm expected to make fun of a maimed veteran. Well, forget it. I'm not going to do it. So anyway, the woman asks Private Stumpy, "Are you still sure you wanna do it? Really?" She's not asking amorously, and considering what the first scene of this show is usually about, I have to assume she's talking about the other thing. "Are you?" responds the wounded man. "I brought the thing," she answers. "Then, yeah," he says, seeming disappointed that she's not trying to talk him out of it. At first I thought they were husband and wife, and the wife was being kind of cold about wanting her triple-amputee war vet out of the picture. But we'll learn later that they're actually brother and sister. And it's not the last time this episode will blur the line between spouses and siblings, I assure you. She digs something out of her purse, and he hides it in his bed before we can see what it is. She clasps his remaining hand as he thanks her.
At night, she's gone, but our soldier is still awake. He pulls "the thing" -- which to nobody's surprise turns out to be a huge syringe -- out from under his pillow, bites off the cap, and injects himself in the chest. Looks painful. His breathing gets faster, until it stops entirely, the uncapped syringe still clasped in his fist, which seems kind of dangerous for whoever will end up finding him. But that’s not his problem; it's all over for Paul Ronald Duncan (1983-2005) except for the awarding of the posthumous Purple Heart.
David wakes up to the staticky station on his alarm clock radio. It actually sounds more like someone's spinning the dial than honestly poor reception, but he's alone in bed. Before he shuts off the alarm, he hears a news report about a tall Caucasian man in a hooded sweatshirt (oooh!) abducting a six-year-old girl at a school bus stop. He hits the button to snooze, like that's going to happen. He calls for Keith, but it's Anthony who appears in the doorway to report that Keith and Durrell went out for donuts. "Are you sick?" Anthony asks, standing very still. David throws up in his mouth a bit, then lies that he's fine. Anthony finally approaches the bed, calmly informing David, "My face came off last night." David rather urgently asks Anthony to repeat that. "My face keeps coming off when I go to bed," Anthony says from the foot of the bed, his voice now creepily augmented by a synchronized baritone. Then he jumps up on the bed and scrambles right up at David's face, screaming, "Wake me up!" I get chills.
David wakes up again, apparently for real this time, to another newscast about the body of a child that was recovered in Montana in connection with the same case mentioned before, which now includes reports of a dark-blue Nissan Maxima. Now it's Keith who appears in the doorway, saying he's going to take the kids to school. David thanks him for the extra sleep, and asks if the news reports about "this guy on the loose" are real or if he just dreamed them. Keith confirms that he saw it on the news, and readily agrees to walk the kids into the school when he drops them off. David sits up and rubs his eyes. Keith asks if he's all right. David understates that he just had a bad dream. He adds, "Look, it's been almost six weeks since…you know. And it's time, right? For me to get it together." Keith says that it's time when David feels that it's time. We'll see how long Keith continues to feel that way. He kisses David and heads out with a promise to call after he drops off the boys. By the way, to convey how stressed out David is, even in the secure cocoon of his bed, the cinematographer filmed him in this scene like he was storming Omaha Beach in Saving Private Ryan. Nice touch.
Brenda's lying in her bed with the newspaper and a spent breakfast tray when Billy taps on the doorframe and comes in. He's dressed in another snazzy item from the same line of fashions as the famous "Ski Iraq" shirt, but this one says "Surf Saudi" and it has sleeves. He's also carrying a manila envelope that he says contains Maya's medical history and directions to the pediatrician's new office. Billy offers to go with her to the doctors, but Brenda says, "I think the handoff will be better if it's just Ruth and me and Maya." So, six weeks since she dropped off the kid. I hope there have at least been visits since then. Not judging Brenda, but after that long it's going to be a little hard for Ruth to let go. Either that, or Ruth is ready to kill her. Brenda sits up as Billy says it'll be good to have Maya back in the house. Brenda agrees as sincerely as she can, and then the baby inside her gives a kick. She lets Billy feel the little parasite thrashing around in there. "Someone wants out," he comments. "Two more months," Brenda says. Oh, two more months, my vagina. She's fucking huge. We're supposed to believe she's only seven months along at her size, let alone five and a half the episode before? Is she giving birth to a fire engine?
"I'm not drunk," Claire says drunkenly. Her coworker Kirsten, standing in the bathroom at work, suggests reasonably, "It seems like you are." Claire lurches out of the stall she locked herself in as Kirsten points out that Claire's fallen asleep at her desk twice today, and she smells of liquor. She doesn't mention the vomit in Claire's hair. Which isn't actually there, because I made it up. Somebody on the makeup staff fell down on the job, I'd say. "You can't smell vodka," Claire scoffs, which kind of gives away the game. "Anyway," Claire says, going to the sink, "you're being a little fucking bitch." Kirsten says she's sorry about the death of Claire's brother, and if Claire goes home and sleeps it off, Kirsten won't tell Human Resources. Hey, what happened to Personnel? Claire responds to this generous offer by screaming at Kirsten to go ahead and tell, throwing a blizzard of paper towels and Kleenexes at her. Intervention over; Kirsten yells, "All right, I am wicked pissed. You are going to be so fired." "Yeah, well, I'm fucking Ted," Claire smirks. Kirsten: "No way." Claire: "Way." Wow, it really is still the nineties in that office. Kirsten stomps out, crushed, while Claire flips a double bird at her retreating back. "God," she says to her own reflection. "'Way.'" Would it be accurate to say Claire's a mean drunk, since she's rarely not mean? I guess that would make her a meaner drunk.
Claire is indeed so fired, judging by the scene showing her wearing her coat and cleaning out her desk while Ted stands by. Wow, he's security, too? He needs a raise. Claire throws an envelope at her Formerly Perky Cubemate, saying, "I need you to file this for me." Ted finally leads her toward the exit as Nerd Drone watches in frozen shock. Claire stops and sarcastically announces to the floor, "You're all doing really important work here, and I'm sorry if I fucked it up for anybody." Ted gets her moving again, suggesting she shut up for a few seconds, but even that's too much, as she pulls free of him and tells the nearest drone, "Everyone you know is gonna die." It's prettier when the Flaming Lips say it. Ted finally drags her out as she hollers, "And that little Kirsten is a fucking bitch!" I'm not sure if even the Flaming Lips could make that sound pretty.
Intake time. The Corpse of the Week's mom ["also Dead Scott's mom from -- she's everywhere, that lady" -- Sars] is requesting to David and Rico that her son be made to look "whole again" for the viewing. "People should see more than just what happened to him." By which she means prosthetic limbs. Rico's on top of it, saying he's already got a call in to the prosthetics company. By which he of course means "pet store." The blonde woman from the first scene is also here, but she's not on the same page as Mom, or really even the same library. She drones, "Can you stand him up and make him walk around, too? Can you make him maybe, like, talk and tell everybody that it's all good and it's really no problem to be dead?" Her voice rises: "Maybe just stick your hand up inside his head and, you know, 'Everything's fine, everything's fine, freedom! Freedom! Freedom!'" Before either Rico or an increasingly distressed David can say that sure, they can do that but it's going to be extra, Mom puts a stop to Sister's rant: "Are we gonna tell all the people at the funeral that he killed himself, too?" Sister concedes the point. CotW's suicide is clearly news to our heroes. MamaCotW explains that her son took an injection from a needle whose source is still a mystery, while Sister sits there looking guiltier than the perp on every episode ever of Law & Order: I Did It. Mom thinks a night nurse was behind it. "They're so understaffed over there. They're taking anybody." Hey, Rico should tell Vanessa. She'll turn out to be up for a career change later on tonight. Mom turns to her daughter and says, Ruth-like, "I don't know why you have to rub everyone's noses in it. It is such a violent impulse." David just sits there, looking like he just wants this to be over before he has to speak.
Maya's riding in the back of Ruth's car, rubbing her ear as she looks out the window at the passing rear projection. "Should we have tubes put in her ears?" Ruth asks George as she drives. George quickly answers, "No! It's a whole surgical procedure under general anesthetic." Also, Ruth? Not your kid, six weeks of free babysitting or no. Props to the writers for coming up with such a fast and an efficient way to show how Ruth's boundaries have broken down where her granddaughter is concerned. Ruth is still complaining about the frequency of Maya's ear infections, so George suggests asking the doctor about putting her on preventative antibiotics for a few months. Ruth is surprised to hear that they do that, and then she's surprised that George knows so much about the subject. Because he can't simply say, "On the internet," he explains that he "joined an online pediatric news group." Ruth's impressed, and looks at Maya in the rearview mirror before thanking George for coming along "and for being a friend lately." George is glad he can help. Ruth finally blurts, "I don't want to let her go, George. I don't." George knows.
Rico and David walk the CotW's mom and sister to the door as the bereaved women thank Rico. David says they'll see them the day at two. After Mom's out the door, the sister turns and apologizes to David. "He was the only brother I'll ever have, you know?" she says. "I'll never have another brother." She almost seems to be flirting with him, and I later find out that the actress is Michael C. Hall's wife. Get a room, you two. Despite the anvil on his chest constricting his breathing, David manages to say that it wasn't a problem. Rico's standing there by the open door in the background this whole time, looking very undertakerly. Sister thanks David, shakes his hand, and leaves. Rico closes the door behind her. David's about to go back to work, but Rico stops him. He tries to ease into what he's about to say, but Rico's about as good at easing as he is at dunking basketballs and not cheating with strippers. His point is that "At some point we're gonna have to sit down and talk about the future of the business." David agrees, and asks if it has to be today. Rico says obviously not, but he needs to know when, then. David, trying to hold it together, says he doesn't know when he'll be able to. "It's just, I got a family I'm trying to think about," Rico pushes. Oops. If it were anyone else but Rico, I'd probably give him the benefit of the doubt on what he meant by that. But David isn't. He angrily cuts his eyes to one side and says, "So do I. I have a fucking husband, Rico. I have two children. When are you going to realize I'm a human being just like you? When?" Rico doesn't say anything, shocked into silence by David's outburst. "When?" David repeats, just to clarify that he's not asking a rhetorical question. Rico looks like he's about to open his mouth and dig himself deeper, but then they're both distracted by the sound of shouting from outside.
Where we join Claire's drunken antiwar rant, already in progress. "'Support our troops'?" she yells at the CotW's family. "What a bunch of bullshit!" Ted's trying to get her inside, while she yells at the CotW's mom for the disconnect between her sticker and the gas-guzzling vehicle she drives. Claire's hearse is in the driveway, so Ted must have driven her home in that. And I'm totally sure they got fifty miles to the gallon, too. David and Rico come outside as Ted gets Claire moving again, apologizing to the mom as he drags Claire by the arm. "Yeah, we wouldn't want to offend anybody while they're supporting out troops!" Claire spits. David tells Claire to shut up. Instead of doing that, Claire rants at David about the war, capping it off with, "And the best thing she can think of to do is to put a sticker on that enormous shitbox!" "Take her inside!" David yells at Ted, who starts to comply as Rico tries to smooth things over and lead Mom to the passenger side door. But Claire's not anywhere near done, stomping up to the sister and going on and on about wounded soldiers. Yeah, Claire, I think Sister got that memo. Claire's now clubbing the SUV with her purse while David takes a turn at trying to subdue her. "Claire, shut the hell up! Her brother just died!" Rico finally yells at her. Which, believe it or not, succeeds in calming her down. "I'm sorry," she whispers, out of breath from her exertions. Jesus, Claire, why did you think they were there? To sell Girl Scout cookies? Rico goes back to the mom's open window to apologize as the sister starts up the car, and assures her that Claire won't be there tomorrow. Mom snaps, "I should hope not! She seems like she's on drugs." "She usually is," Rico agrees, and waves bye-bye as the car drives off.
Now that Claire and Ted are inside, Rico goes up to where David is still staring at Claire's door in disbelief. He stands glaring at David until the latter finally snaps, "What?" "So when can we talk about it?" Rico demands. David angrily says fine, and reaches into his pocket for his keys, which he throws at Rico's feet. "You want the whole fucking business, Rico? It's yours," David yells, heading inside. "There, we had our talk." Rico flings the keys at the door that David just slammed behind himself. Wow, all of that was actually kind of upsetting.
Cut to George and Ruth in the pediatrician's exam room, waiting, I assume, for the pediatrician. Maya sits in George's lap as he fiddles with his cell phone and complains that nobody returns calls any more. No, that's just to you, George. Ruth complains about how long they've been waiting for the doctor. Finally, in comes Brenda, apologizing for her lateness. Which is understandable, because she had to fix breakfast -- no, that's not right. She had to dig up Maya's medical records -- oh wait. Um, she had to find directions to the doctor's office? No? Okay, so she's just late for no reason. "Mommy!" Maya bleats, and runs to her. They all commiserate some more about the wait for the doctor, and Brenda asks if they brought Maya's stuff. After an awkward pause, George says it's in the car. But no moment is so awkward that Ruth can't make it more so, which she does in this case by blurting, "I think Maya should stay with us." Brenda rather coldly says that Maya isn't going to. Ruth argues that Brenda's going to have her hands full with the new baby and that Maya is going to end up at Ruth's again anyway (in which case, way to blow it, there, Ruth), but Brenda says Billy will be around to help her out. "Well, I'm not sure that's the best environment," Ruth sniffs, and Brenda shoots back, "Well, I'm not sure I care what you think, Ruth." Which is Ruth's opening to play the wronged party, getting up and announcing that she'll wait in the car. Brenda and George both ask her to stay, but she says the room is too crowded anyway, hugs Maya goodbye, and leaves.
Brenda leans against the wall, glaring at the ceiling in exasperation. George quietly says, "You are about to have a brand new baby." Brenda asks how it's any of George's business. "She's all Ruth has right now," George says. "She's all. Ruth. Has." Rather than correctly pointing out that that's Ruth's problem ["or that Ruth has two other living children, like, shut up, George" -- Sars], Brenda dreams up Late Nate, Jr. perched on the exam table and saying, "Whereas you've got your anger, your self-pity, and your spite. Are you really going to make Maya pay for the rest of her life because I fucked somebody else and died? She's better off with my mom, Bren, and you know it." A nurse pops in to apologize for the wait, and Nate's gone. Brenda looks at her adorable stepdaughter playing on the floor and says to George, "Okay, keep her." Wow, does being dead really mean you automatically win every argument?
Up in the Claire, Lawyer Ted's trying to sober up his girlfriend with a liter bottle of Evian. He's going to regret arming her like that in a minute. Claire takes a mighty swig, then asks for her keys back, because she's all sober now. Sober as a judge, in fact. Assuming that judge is fucking blotto. Ted declines to let Claire drive anywhere, so she decides to start in with another volley of mean-spirited non-sequiturs. "I just never thought I'd know a guy named Ted," she says. "Such a '70s name." Rather than pointing out that that's where he got it, or that the '70s are hip now, Ted just mumbles, "Funny." But he's still not giving back her keys. He drops them into his shirt pocket instead. Frustrated, Claire flings the remainder of the Evian all over his suit and tie. "I don't want you here. I don't even like you. You are a fascist, Republican asshole and the fact that I ever even liked you in the first place is total proof that I am fucked up about my life!" Ted stands and takes it until she screams at him to get out. He hesitates, then heads out, shakily telling her he'll bring back her keys the day. I guess he'll have Ruth call him a cab or something. Unless he just loaded his car into the back of Claire's. Alone, Claire gets a beer out of her dorm fridge and a spare set of keys out of her junk drawer. Something tells me Ted isn't going to have the foresight to let the air out of her tires. Or, if he does, it won't be because of foresight.
Brenda steps on to one of those ridiculously deep hospital elevators that are designed to accommodate a gurney or two, and walks all the way to the far end. As the car goes into motion, Late Nate, Jr.'s voice tells her her big mistake was not marrying Billy. "That's not even funny," Brenda growls. Nate's standing in the elevator with her, claiming that he was just a substitute for Billy. He says Brenda's not to blame: "You were raised to be impaired. You were grown wrong, like one of those square watermelons they cultivate in Japan." Leave it to Nate to learn about world cultures from watching The Simpsons. Which I know is what happened, because that's what I did, too. Meanwhile he's giving her these faux-sympathetic puppy dog eyes that make me want to poke one of them out with a pickle fork. Brenda tries to turn it around by saying Nate can't feel anything for anybody he isn't fucking (and frequently not even then, I'd be the first to add), but he exhorts her to pack up and run away with Billy to Nova Scotia. "You can live together, you can love each other, you can fuck." "I am so glad you're dead," Brenda channels, walking past him to the control panel. Nate tells her back that he's pretty sure that Arnold Schwarzenegger and Maria Shriver are siblings, "and they're making it work." Brenda tells Nate to shut the fuck up and stands right in front of the doors, desperately waiting for them to open already. Nate appears rightupinherface, calmly insisting, "I'm just saying, you only get one life. There's no God, no judgements, except for those you accept or create for yourself. And once it's over, it's over. Dreamless sleep forever and ever. So why not be happy while you're here?" Because then when you're gone people will let their psyches conjure up manifestations of you that they can use to try and excuse the darkest impulses of their warped minds? That would be my answer. Finally the elevator doors open, and Nate's gone. That is one tall hospital.
David's at home, telling the fam over dinner (with normal utensils now) about his fight with Rico. Efficiently, we pick up on his version where we left off, as he says, "So then he came back inside, threw the keys at me, and left." The kids wonder what all this grown-up (?) drama means, and David looks like he regrets having brought it up. "It happens sometimes when people work together. Eat some salad." Yeah, Glark and I still laugh about that time he threw a server at me. Keith reasonably says that Rico kind of has a point, but David squirms and starts to get offended, whining about Keith not taking his side. Keith: "I'm taking your side by trying to help you get some perspective about this." David wails, "My brother's dead, Keith! I don't need any more fucking perspective! I just need to be loved!" The kids look at him in shock. Then David suddenly clasps his upturned hands in front of his tie in this weird gesture that looks like he's trying to pull out a letter opener that somebody jammed through his sternum. Without getting up, Keith sends the kids to their room, with an assist from David. Actually, David says, "Get out!" and keeps sitting there like somebody sewed his tie to his chair back. Keith tells David to relax. David says he's trying. "Try harder," Keith growls. Yeah, that always helps.
A night of dining out with the Diazes apparently consists of burgers and fries in the car, which is parked outside another funeral home. Vanessa's trying to get Rico to look into buying the place, which has been on the market for six months, but he's making a lot of excuses about how he knows the place has water in the basement. Better than blood. Vanessa insists, "Our lives should be ours to win or lose. Not the Fishers'." I think it would be kind of sexist of me to point out the symbolism inherent in the fact that Vanessa's sitting in the driver's seat in this scene, so I'm not going to.
Ruth and George are just finishing tucking Maya into Nate's old bed, as George tries to reassure her that Maya's getting better. "We could raise her, couldn't we?" Ruth says. George hems and haws, but he can't pass up this chance to get Ruth back, so he agrees. Anyway, it's not like raising children has ever been a lifelong commitment for George, as we'll be forcefully reminded later on. Ruth sends George away for a cold towel, and he gets up to go. Is George staying here now? Has he moved back? Is he still paying rent on his apartment? Or is Ruth? Does anybody on this show have any use for money? Late Nate, Jr. appears to Ruth, saying, "Thanks, Mom. I wouldn't want anyone else to take care of her but you." Ruth says she loves Maya, and Nate says he knows, and that this reminds him of being in this room before David and Claire. "It was just Dad and you and me and everything was going to be all right." Ruth happily strokes Maya's forehead, purring, "My poor, sick, little girl." Poor Ruth. She always needs to be taking care of someone, and Maya represents the most tangible remainder of Nate in this world. If only Ruth had any other children who needed her.
Brenda and Billy are having a little Chenoweth rap session in her kitchen, as Brenda says she used to think she'd have more people in her life as time went on. Billy sadly says it doesn't work that way. Especially if you're a Chenoweth, I would suspect. "As we get older, the number of people that completely get us, shrinks," he says rather optimistically. Brenda agrees, "Until we become so honed by our experiences, time and…" Billy says nobody understands as she begins to cry. See the irony? They each understand how the other feels having nobody who understands them! They should fuck. "Be sure to tell the baby that," he cracks, and then she's laughing and crying at the same time. So am I, but for different reasons.
Claire's avocado-green hearse comes to a halt on an isolated dirt road. She kills the engine (which doesn't exactly sound like it takes much killing these days) and the headlights, and walks off into the darkness with a flashlight held out in front of her.
And now Nate does have a marker, now that it's too late to do me any good. It's just a flat, rough stone, reading, "In loving memory of Nathaniel Samuel Fisher Jr. 1965-2005." Claire's sitting on the ground to it, sadly asking why he had to die. "Everything's unraveling since you're gone," she says, like that's not the status quo. Which is Nate's cue to appear sitting cross-legged to her. Claire weepily says she misses him, and he returns the compliment, albeit not weepily. Claire's mad at herself for the way she always used to say that Nate wasn't Dad after Late Nate, Sr. died. "It kept me from ever knowing you, like, as much as I really could have. And now you are so completely fucking gone!" He's not that gone, Claire. He's still first in the credits, after all. Nate tells her, "Stop listening to the static." Claire doesn't know what that means. Nate explains, "Everything in the world is, like, this transmission making its way across the dark. But everything, death, life, everything, it's all completely suffused with static." And then he imitates static, complete with finger-twiddling. "But if you listen to the static too much, it fucks you up." Claire takes this in for a moment, and then says something that reveals exactly how well he's gotten through to her: "Are you high?" And, since he's really nothing more than a Nate-shaped manifestation of what's going on in Claire's consciousness, he thinks a minute and says, "I am, actually, yeah, I'm quite high." Which is funny, because aside from the crap he's spewing, he doesn't sound high at all. But it's not like he has a choice in this form. Claire laughs, and suddenly there's a weird animal noise coming from out in the darkness. "What the fuck was that?" Nate demands, completely blowing the stereotype of the all-knowing spirit, as well as the stereotype of the disappearing-at-the-most-inopportune-possible-moment-while-the-camera's-on-the-other-person spirit. Which pisses Claire off, too: "What, you know everything about the entire fucking universe, but you don't know what's out there, right now, in the dark?" Nate tells Claire to get out of there, and gets up and runs away at top speed. Which is funny, because it's not normally how a ghost makes an exit on this show. I guess that's what happens when ghosts get high. Spectral powers should be Nate's anti-drug. Claire fearfully calls after him, but he's just as gone as if he'd Mr. Roarked out of there. There's another indistinct growl, and off in the trees we see the silhouette of a running animal. There's only a glimpse, and there's no sense of scale whatsoever, so it could be fox or a Chihuahua for all I know. They better not be trying to Spawn Claire now. It's not a cougah! It's not! Claire screams and bolts back toward her car.
There's a soft knock on Maya's bedroom door before it slides open. "Hey," Brenda softly says to Billy, who's reading shirtless in Maya's bed. She comes into the room and sits on the edge of the bed, pleading sleeplessness due to a high level of fetal activity. Billy asks again to feel, and Brenda pulls her shirt up to expose her ginormous seven-months-pregnant-with-a-fucking-brontosaurus belly. Which Billy strokes affectionately. She moves his hand away and pulls her shirt down, saying it'll be nice to have her body back. Billy tells her she looks beautiful, but he does so in a borderline squicky way. Brenda laughs, and then leans over and plants a playful smack on his mouth. He asks why she did that, and she says she wanted to. Then she sort of leans to one side to lie on top of him with his arm around her, which looks cozy, although her head sort of goes up into his naked armpit at first, which, ick. She says she loves him. He says it back, and then she goes in for a longer kiss, which he doesn't resist. She breaks it off, sitting up with a long, nervous, "Whoa." Billy asks if he can hold her, and she says of course he can. He sits up in bed and pushes the covers aside, and as Brenda goes in for her "holding," we see before she does that he's not just shirtless, if you know what I mean. There's another whoa as Brenda backs away, but doesn't get off the bed. Billy says it's okay. Brenda smirks out of frame at what I'm sure is his tremendous boner, then looks him in the eye before cackling naughtily. Billy, smiling, invites her to touch it. Brenda gets serious in a hurry, and agrees. "That's what your penis would look like if you were a boy," he moans. Brenda says she was thinking the same thing. Funny, I'm suddenly wondering what her penis looks like now. There's another kiss, and it's almost sort of hot in a really twisted way, aside from the fact that they're IN MAYA'S BED.
And then Brenda's eyes fly open and she sits up in the dark, in her room, in her bed, alone. Teases. I hope this isn't like when Spike had that dream about Buffy and we had to watch it in the previouslies for, like, the whole rest of the season. Although I suppose I can put up with it for one episode.
Claire's made it safely to her car, but for some reason she's still in flight mode, driving way too fast in the dark like Tinkerbell Hilton is going to jump on her car and tear the roof off like a sardine tin if she slows down below sixty. What does happen is that a foal deer runs out on the narrow road right in front of her car. Claire slams on the brakes, and I would have thought that it would take some doing to roll a car that low and heavy on a straight and level road, but she goes up the slight embankment and manages to pull it off. The car comes to a stop its roof, rocking gently. As one clever poster put it, fade to white/Claire's not upright.
morning, in the Fisher kitchen, George is reading Maya's horoscope to her. She's a Gemini (how apropos for a character who's played by twins), and the astrologer ends on a warning note: "You have more enemies than you think." A certain astrologer needs to quit reading our forums, I think. George starts on his own: "Aries: Think about what you say before you speak." A little late for that. Ruth enters in her bathrobe, quietly announcing that the Claire is empty. George isn't concerned, figuring she spent the night at Ted's, but Ruth adds that Claire isn't answering her cell phone, either. George scoffs, "They're young. They sleep. They don't call back." A callback joke about callbacks. We're through the looking-glass here. Ruth stresses that she missed saying goodbye to her son. George says her name in a warning tone, but she snaps, "I want to know where my daughter is!" That gets even Maya's attention. I'm sure George will swing into action to help Ruth find Claire right away, aren't you?
David has shifted himself to get out of bed and drive the kids to school himself, and he's walking them up to the building while giving them all sorts of instructions about not leaving the grounds or talking to strangers or getting killed or raped by them or anything. They're about to go inside when David calls them back to apologize for getting upset the night before. Anthony asks if they can make pizza tonight. David agrees, and says he just misses Nate a lot. He starts to elaborate, but Durrell and his suddenly-appearing, long, skinny, pointy, incredibly distracting and mystifying sideburns say they're going to be late. David sends them into the building, acting like he's glad they're being responsible and don't just want to get away from his basket-case ass. At the top of the stairs he turns back toward the street, just in time to spot a black Nissan Maxima cruising slowly past the front of the school. And at the wheel is someone whose face is covered by the hood of his red sweatshirt. Spooky! And possibly even actually happening! David runs up to the crossing guard and points out the car, saying, "I think that might be the dark-blue Nissan they’re looking for? The guy who's murdering children?" The crossing guard points out that the car is black. David apologizes, saying, "My mistake," and heads back to his car, tripping over the crossing guard's lawn chair on the sidewalk as he goes. And of course, he doesn't look at all soothed.
Over at Brenda's, she's asking her brother to move out, saying that Maya will need a room. Billy asks if she's sure she'll be okay when the baby comes. She says no, which leaves him puzzled. She says, "Billy, I'm not saying that when the baby comes you won't be here eighteen hours a day." Someone's pretty sure of herself. "I'm just saying that…I gotta get my fucking shit together and we need the space." Billy swallows his disappointment and nods pleasantly. He asks when Brenda's picking up Maya, and she says this afternoon, wondering, "Why the fuck did I tell them they could keep her?" Billy says not to beat herself up. "Just go get her. She's your daughter. You're the best mother she could have." And then he gets up to go pack, while Brenda stands there wondering if she really got away with it, and resolving never to listen to another one of her stupid dead husband's idiot ideas ever again. She'd be better off listening to the static.
Claire's not dead. She's just walking along that dirt lane, her cell phone has either no power or no signal, and she's starting to get desperate. At least she's covered quite a bit of distance, if the difference in terrain between the area she's walking through and the spot where Nate was buried is any indication. Finally a pickup comes rumbling along the road, and Claire steps out in front of it to flag it down. Kind of sucks for her to be in a position to have to ask for help from a stranger. And we know the pickup driver is a stranger to Claire because he doesn't run her over.
David's busy in the Body Shop, sewing up the artery hole on the CotW where the embalming fluid got pumped in. You suppose they gave the family a break on that, since they didn't have to use as much? Never mind, I'm not making fun. As everyone knows, the only proper time to insult the military service of a combat veteran is when he's running for public office. Forget I asked. Suddenly the CotW screams in pain, and David sprints backward until he crashes into the nearest counter. "I'm not dead!" CotW screams. David apologizes. "Sorry, I'm a funeral director," he sputters. CotW wails at David to kill him. David yells right back that "This is not fucking happening!" Finally, he's starting to get the hang of the dream sequences on this show. Too bad there's only one episode left. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them, it is indeed not fucking happening. Instead, something else is: the CotW is calmly sitting up on the slab, with nothing on but the bandages on three of his stumps and the groincloth over the fourth. "Okay, maybe it isn't," the CotW says quietly, "but that doesn't mean you're not totally fucking alone." He says David's going to die just like everyone. David says he's "aware of the reality of death. I work with it every day." CotW's not buying; he insists that David is more scared than he's ever been. "You thought you knew what fear was when [Jimmy Felon] poured gas all over your head, but this?" CotW rubs in the fact that someday David will be dead, and he'll never see Keith or the boys again. David screams at him to shut up, and it actually works; in the shot, the CotW is back to lying on the slab like a properly behaved stiff. Way to go, David; you killed him again. David tries to pull himself together. We don't get to stick around and see how that goes, but I have an idea.
Galvanized by Ruth's desperate need to find out where her daughter is, George has come to the rescue by rushing right out of the house and finding…his. He's grown weary of waiting for Maggie to call him back and is now loitering around her apartment, which she's currently packing up. Nice built-in shelves, by the way; I bet her car doesn't have those. To explain why she's moving away, she says, "You're okay now. Everything's fine. I'm not necessary." George reminds her that she has family in L.A. She disagrees; "I have some people that I've ruined, and that I've ruined myself in front of. That's all." George doesn't know what she's talking about. Does he not know about her and Nate? I guess I read his funeral speech all wrong last week. Or somebody wrote it wrong, one of the two. Maggie says, "Do you remember anything, Daddy? Do you wake up every morning, totally blank? Empty? You left us!" George doesn't have much to say to that besides a whispered "Sorry," but Maggie says she's learned that life is basically going from place to place ruining everything. That sounds expensive and inconvenient. George tries to tell her it's not true, but she yells that "I am so sick of pretending everything's okay just so that you like me. I hate you!" George recoils in shock. "I hate that you dragged me into this world and just left me here! Let me go!" She goes back to packing. George stands there for a moment, puts his entrails back into his abdomen, and walks out the open door.
David's driving the kids home from school, but they're confused as to why they left early. David says he rented movies and got pizza ingredients. "I was missing you guys," he says. Durrell wants to know what's really up, and David insists that he just wanted to spend time with them. Durrell whatevers that he's going to have to call someone to get his math homework. David, offended that they aren't acting like this is Christmas morning or something, pissily asks if they want to go back to school. When they're slow to answer, he turns around in his seat and demands that they answer them, while simultaneously trying to see how many Fishers can roll their cars in a twenty-four-hour period. "No!" both kids yell at him before they all die. David turns back to the road. "I thought you'd be happy to get out of school. I'm sorry if I ruined your day," he grumps at them. Durrell and Anthony look at each other like, the day ain't over yet.
Hey, do you suppose David even finished up the CotW before he bailed on work? Not if the message Rico's leaving from the office at Fisher & Diaz is any indication: "David, I just found the guy downstairs, totally not ready for the viewing. I am here, all alone. It would be a real treat to know where the fuck you are. Call me." He hangs up, sighs, and picks up the phone again to make another call. The CotW's mom pokes her head into the office to see what's up, and Rico promises to be right out. We can see other funeral attendees milling around in the background behind her, and she ducks back out. Rico's second call is to Vanessa, begging her to leave work early and come over right away.
Claire hands a cell phone back to the crusty old tow truck driver/mechanic who's come to her rescue, and we learn that she succeeded in getting a hold of Ruth. Don't bother scrolling up or paging back thinking you skimmed past that conversation somehow, because you didn't. We never got to see it. I don't know why. The tow truck driver takes a look at the inverted hearse and offers Claire $800 for it. She protests that it's a Cadillac. The driver says he knows, he's buying it for parts. "You should be thinking how lucky you are to be alive, young lady, instead of trying to jack up the price on a totaled car." Claire gets him to agree to $950, then watches as his crew moves the tow truck into position to flip her car back upright. The mechanic kicks out the driver's side window. Claire cries, because she has one less brother, no job, no boyfriend, and no car. And if she did, it would have a broken window.
CotW's sister is sitting alone on an upstairs window seat at the funeral home. Vanessa appears at the top of the stairs. I suppose Rico gave her a choice between attaching the CotW's prosthetic limbs and working the room, and she wisely chose the latter. Back in her hubba-hubba funeral dress and hair, Vanessa sits down to the CotW's sister, explaining that she's helping out her husband. By sitting to people and waiting for them to start talking, I guess. She doesn't have to wait long in this case. "We are living in, like, the unluckiest time ever," Sister says. "I mean, I grew up thinking I was born in the time when there was the internet, and the fall of communism, and the Gap. Turns out my time is when there's like, 9/11 and a bunch of wars and the end of everything." Yeah, but indoor plumbing makes up for a lot. I'm pretty sure that's what I'd miss most if I woke up in the Stone Age. Although writing a recap for a show with no commercials takes long enough as it is without having to use a chisel. Vanessa says all the right kind of comforting things. It seems to work, sort of.
George is back in the Fisher kitchen with Ruth, his ill-advised and oddly-timed visit to his daughter's place over. Brenda and Maya are there too, and the former is asking if they packed the latter's things. Ruth blathers a bit, and finally says to Brenda, "She's been so happy here." Brenda knows where this is going, and cuts it off: "Okay, George, could you please take Maya upstairs and pack her things?" George doesn't move. "Or do I have to call the police?" Brenda adds. Ruth reacts incredulously, but George jumps up to do as he's asked. Once Ruth and Brenda are alone, they face off across the kitchen. Brenda -- who has yet to express a word of appreciation for Ruth's taking Maya for six weeks without Brenda ever even saying please -- says she's just taking her daughter home. "After you left her here like a bag of garbage," Ruth says. Excuse me, Ruth, but does garbage have luggage? I think not. Brenda says that leaving Maya there was the most responsible thing she could think of doing at the time. Ruth says, "I never left my children, Brenda. I never left them for a second. I wouldn't. I couldn't!" Brenda skips right past the most recent and incredibly glaring counterexample, and just flatly says, "Nate fucked Maggie the night before he died." Ruth goes right into denial, but Brenda insists it's true. She says she needed time to work through her anger before she could be a good mother to Maya, "who I love as much as my own baby and who I am taking home." And then Brenda gasps in shock and confusion, because she's suddenly standing in a puddle of her own making. "Your water's breaking," Ruth says, pulling out a chair for her, and now it's Brenda's turn to be in denial, saying it's too early. Yeah, that belly of yours says otherwise, Enormo. Ruth tells her to sit, and hurries out, saying she'll get Brenda to the hospital while Maya stays with George. Groaning, Brenda lowers herself to her knees on the wet floor, panting.
Anthony and Durrell are at home, watching a Charlie Chaplin movie. This is what David rented? I remember my dad bringing home a couple of Charlie Chaplin movies once. He'd checked them out of the library, along with a Super 8 film projector, and played them on the basement wall. There weren't quite as many home entertainment options in 1975 as there are now, and even back then I would have been bored had I been twelve at the time instead of five. An apron-clad David joins them in the living room as Durrell complains, "This movie's gay." David reacts like he's been slapped, but he decides to take this as a Socratic teaching opportunity. "What is 'gay,' Durrell?" he asks testily. "Movies with no talking," Durrell tactical-retreats. Anthony asks about the pizza, which David says he just put under the broiler to melt the cheese some more. Just then there's a brisk knock on the door. David tells the kids to stay where they are as he nervously goes to answer it. "Who is it?" Durrell asks. David doesn't know. The knocking has now become a fierce pounding. David carefully approaches the door, wishing for a peephole and asking who's there. His only answer is the door being busted wide open, slamming him against the wall. A guy in jeans and -- you guessed it -- a red hooded sweatshirt -- stomps inside and heads straight for the boys, a wicked hunting knife in one hand. As David begs the man not to kill the kids, Anthony flees, but Durrell is slower and the man grabs him by the shoulder and savagely stabs Durrell twice in the abdomen. The sight of the actual stabbing is blocked by the invader's body, but it's still pretty gruesome, considering this is a kid it's happening to. Thank God for those sideburns. The killer turns his blood-spattered face to David, and we see for the first time that it's Late Nate, Jr., psychotically yelling, "They're gonna die anyway!" David's eyes bug out, shocked that Peter Krause's character died and he not only didn't leave the show, he basically got to play four different characters in this episode.
He's snapped out of it by the sound of a smoke alarm and the two very much alive kids yelling at him that something's burning. Durrell gets up and runs into the kitchen, from where smoke is billowing, while David cluelessly yells right back at him. Anthony worriedly asks what they did wrong. David bitches, "You didn't do anything! Not everything is about you!" Keith finally comes in to restore order, and he's not too pleased about it. David just stands there, confused, as the smoke alarm finally stops bleating.
Rico must be pretty pleased with Vanessa, because tonight he's letting them all eat at the kitchen table instead of in the car. He's proudly bragging to the kids about Vanessa's performance at the funeral home today. One of the Federiquitos asks if it was sad. Vanessa -- still all dolled up -- says it was, "but it felt good. You know, to be there for people that needed it." Rico tells Vanessa that he called the realtor about the funeral home she was pushing him to look at, and invites her to come along tomorrow. She nods excitedly. So from Late Nate Jr., Brenda gets bad ideas, Claire gets 2 AM dorm-speak, David gets panic attacks, Ruth gets Maya, and Vanessa gets the gift? I -- guess I don't have a problem with most of that.
David lies awake in bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling. Keith comes in, tells him the kids are almost asleep, and sits down on the bed, wondering where to start. "It isn't good for the boys to be around you like this," he finally says. David knows. "Keith," he says, "I feel like my face is coming off." Keith looks at him like, Damn, it's even worse than I thought. David continues, "I try to keep holding it on, but I can't. It keeps coming off. What's underneath is just…" We don't get to hear what's underneath, because David says, "I don't want the boys to go away." Keith says he's not sending the boys anywhere. That's the good news. "But I do think that you should go away for a little while…until you get better." Off David's shocked look, Keith explains that the kids are scared to be around him. "It's not good," he finishes. David sighs unhappily. Keith's always trying to get someone out of his house, isn't he?
Also unhappy? Claire, who's riding a bus home while Arcade Fire's "Cold Wind" fades up on the soundtrack. She looks out at the lights going past.
Brenda wails and moans and struggles to give birth in a busy delivery room. She asks the masked obstetrician if the baby's okay. The worried OB tells her to just keep pushing. Brenda sits up and complies, screaming at the ghost of Nate, who's standing by the window and looking very serious. Rachel Griffiths screams so hard she doesn't even look like herself as we fade to white. I hope she didn't actually give birth on the set or anything.
The finale's 75 minutes long, y'all. Don't forget to notify your TiVos and VCRs.