In the history of television, has an episode ever been scored to as much sad violin music as “Paper Covers Rock� Holy hell! I knew things were bleak, but this bleak? I had to step outside into the sun once I hit the credits! I hope Dee Dee’s Good-bye Grief Group party next week has at least a little celebration, because jeez did this get dark.
Of course, it’s darkest for Edward. He just threw a piano down the steps, remember? While he’s receiving his punishment from the school principal — who does not take “I wanted to hear what it sounded like†as an acceptable reason why Edward did what he did — which already includes expelling him so that they can find a better educational fit for him, Edward, uh, well, he escapes via an open window. This child is making some Choices as of late. He runs all the way home for what he assumes will be an afternoon of eating ice cream and listening to music as loud as he wants in an empty house, but that’s not what he finds.
Earlier, Lacey found Linda unable to get out of bed. Linda said she felt sick but wasn’t sure if it was physical or emotional; she just knew she wanted to be left alone. When Lacey heads off to the school — it’s a real comedy of errors here — Linda gets her wish. But she gets much worse. Edward can hear her moaning from downstairs, and when he finds her in her room, she’s doubled over. She tells him to call 911, but Edward freezes. Linda calls herself an ambulance. He rides to the hospital with her but can’t even speak — all of this trauma happening right before him has finally dredged up memories from the crash. He remembers being pulled out of the wreckage. He remembers the turbulence, the look on Jordan’s face, holding his brother’s hand. Worst of all, he remembers the rock, paper, scissors they played that won Edward that magical window seat that saved his life.
Suffice it to say when Lacey shows up at the hospital, Edward is in a bad place. She also balks at his “I wanted to hear what it sounded like†response to the reasoning behind the piano disaster, but there’s no time to get into it because Edward has gone dark. When Lacey assures him that Linda and the baby will be fine, he tells her she can’t know that. “No one is just gonna be fine. We’re all gonna die,†he says. Like I said: Dark. Lacey does what parents do; she tells him again, this time with much more intensity, that everything will be okay. What else is there to do?
This moment pays off so wonderfully later when Lacey’s at the hospital alone and the doctor tells her that Linda and the baby are just fine. You can physically see the weight lift off of Lacey’s shoulders. She wanted them to be okay so badly, not just because she cares about Linda — that’s a given — but because she was surely trying to will their okay-ness into existence to keep her promise to Edward. When she goes with Linda to the NICU to see the baby but has to remain outside looking in while Linda meets her newborn, Lacey sobs. It’s a sob you know isn’t just about one thing; it’s about all of it. She’s crying because she’s watching Linda have something she never will, because she’s carrying Edward’s pain, because she’s carrying her own. It is emotional and brutal and could someone please tell those damn violins to give it a rest already?
Unfortunately, Lacey’s ability to keep that “everything will be okay†promise to Edward might be lost on the kid at the moment. His day has gone from bad to much, much worse. Edward is raw from finally reliving his memories from the crash, which is possibly why he can open up a little to his Uncle John when he accompanies him to work. It also could be because his uncle is the one person not pushing him to open up. It could be that! John tells Edward about his own parents’ divorce. When it happened, he would just take all the lightbulbs in the house and smash them against the garage wall. He couldn’t explain why except that he just wanted to break things. “I like the way it sounded,†he says. And finally, Edward feels like someone understands him. Edward finally talks about the survivor’s guilt weighing on him, how he feels like he shouldn’t be alive, and how the window seat was Jordan’s until they played rock-paper-scissors. “Jordan should’ve lived, not me. I’m not supposed to be here.†That is some heavy stuff. It can’t be healed with one speech or in one day; that is going to take some time. John might not be the most equipped to deal with what Edward’s dealing with, but he tries a little “rock-paper-scissors is a binding contract†to try and get Edward to see that he is supposed to be here.
With that, John is called away. He leaves Edward alone in his boiler room/office. It’s not long before Edward comes across that giant bin marked “Letters for Eddie†(I don’t know why this needs a label, but sure) and dives into it. This sequence is gutting. Edward begins reading the letters. Some are from those who lost someone in the crash, some are from little boys halfway across the world who want to offer their friendship, some are from crazy religious people, and some are just from crazies. Mahira’s letter is there, too. Throughout the entire time Edward is reading these letters, we see each person standing around him, filling up the office, all demanding something of Edward. It’s awful. It’s too much for a little boy to take. And we leave him there in the darkness.
With all this intense bleakness going on, maybe it’s not so surprising that my favorite scene of the entire episode is the one that offers a little bit of hope. It’s also probably not surprising that it’s a Dee Dee scene because all hail Queen Connie Britton, etc., etc. You know the drill by now.
Dee Dee is having a tough time with the fact that they are on the verge of their very last grief group meeting. The airline only subsidized so many weeks, and now that they’ve covered themselves legally speaking, they don’t care about continuing it. When Dee Dee visits Milo at his office to ask him about having a party for the last meeting — very on brand — she’s holding back tears when she pushes him on how the airline could do this. He’s not really allowed to say much about it, but he agrees with Dee Dee — what they’re doing is “cruel.†Dee Dee finagles 40 bucks out of him for party snacks. I idolize her.
While she’s obviously having a hard time letting go of, as she describes, people she’s come to rely on, the whole thing has her actively thinking about what happens next. And so she winds up knocking on Zoe’s apartment door and demanding a few minutes of her time, regardless of whether her roommates are sitting right there. How many Connie Britton monologues can you fit into a ten-episode season of television? I don’t know, and I don’t care. I want them all!
Dee Dee finally gets honest with Zoe, who hasn’t spoken to her since the big financial dinner falling out. She tells her daughter that she’s failed her as a mother because she was always preoccupied with keeping up appearances. But she also tells Zoe that her father failed her too. She tells her about his life in Los Angeles and the man he loved there. She tells her how angry and hurt this made her. She’s not doing this to punish Zoe. She’s telling her this to remind her that they’re still alive, they can fix their mistakes, and thanks to the grief group, she knows she can change. “They helped me to know who I am without him,†she says tearfully. Because of that, even though she knows it’s going to be hard, she promises Zoe that she will work harder to change, be a better mom, and be a better person. She also tells Zoe’s roommate Lucy to shut up and then a minute later apologizes to Lucy for snapping at her and you know what? It wouldn’t be an emotional Dee Dee speech without her yelling at and then apologizing to some innocent bystander. Dee Dee is going to miss grief group, and boy am I going to miss Dee Dee.
Postscript
• Have imaginary maps ever been so swoony? Kojo and Becks have to get on their flight to Ghana. Adriana doesn’t make it home in time to say good-bye, so she pulls a rom-com airport grand gesture and gets her friend, who happens to be a TSA agent, to pull Kojo and Becks out of the security line and bring them to the back room. I mean, there had to have been an easier way to catch up to them, but sure. They have a teary good-bye in which Kojo draws a map on Adriana’s hand with his finger, showing her where his and Beck’s home will be, where his family lives, and where his room in the house is. He tells her, “should there come a day tomorrow or the day after or the year after†when she wants to see them, that’s where they’ll be. “Now I know where to find you,†she says. I knew this love story would hurt me from day one, so I really only have myself to blame.
• Edward obviously wins saddest boy here, but Sam comes in at a close second. Sienna confronts him about the pictures on his phone, and he confesses that he and Ben were in love. Sienna feels hurt and betrayed, but Sam says he loves her. After a cooling-off period, she tells him she loves him too, but she only wants to stay in this marriage if he is 100 percent in. He needs to decide what he wants. I mean, I know Sienna will be collateral damage, but Sam needs to be honest with himself here.
• Could Brittany S. Hall and Ivan Shaw have any more chemistry? Holy hell!! I don’t even care that they did that cheesy thing of showing a pot boiling over because Amanda and Steve were too busy making out. Let them make out all the time! Let all the pots boil over! (Yes, yes, I know he’s engaged to a nice woman and that his relationship is built on pain and grief and will never last.)
• Loved the little detail of Dee Dee telling Steve it was Milo’s idea to throw a party instead of her own. She loves that grief group, but she’ll never admit it to them! Or will she? She should!