We switch inside to Barb's house, where she's bundling the newspaper for recycling. Margene asks if she can come in and talk to Barb. Sure she can, as soon as Barb puts down some paper for Margene to sit on. I don't blame Barb here -- Margene's been working in dirt and manure all day, and that stuff is murder on upholstery.
Anyway, the upshot of their conversation is this: despite Margene being all into how lucky and mature and proud-of-themselves the family is, she is not at all keen on her kids going to Nicki. Barb says, "Margie, why would you say that? We love Nicki!" in the same tone she might say, "Benny, why isn't your plate clean? You love succotash!" when, in fact, Ben really hates lima beans. Margene says that isn't not because Nicki's a bad mother, it's just that Barb's such a good mother. She says airily, "I mean it. Lester and Aaron reach for you before they reach for me." That might be because they never see you, Margene. Who's watching over the little crumbsnatchers right now?
Barb's sort of secretly thrilled that she is winning the mother of the year prize in Hendrickson's' homes plus too, but asks Margene how she plans to tell Nicki. Margene's all, "Oh, I don't think Nicki needs to know. I just want to know if I can talk to the attorney?" Barb muses on the wondrous nature of attorney-client privilege.
And then, in the oh-isn't-it-funny sequence, we see Lee Hatcher enter the doorway of his office and inquire, "You wanted to see me about your will?" And it's Nicki who's taking advantage of the confidential nature of attorney-client privilege -- she wants to leave her kids to her parents at Juniper Creek. Well, that'll thrill Alby. At long last, he'll have at least one label-conscious male companion with whom to discuss fashion.
Back at Henrickson's Home Plus, Bill's trying to sell Don on the idea of Bill as a League member. Don's somewhat distracted because Peg's just come in brandishing a sink and braying about recalls. He fills her in on the invitation, and Peg neutrally says, "Dream come true." Bill ignores this warning sign and waxes effusive about the networking possibilities and business deals available with this membership. Don frets that this will actually wreck their business: if word got out that they were polygamists, a more influential class of customer could ruin them for good. Bill cheerily protests, "We spend our whole lives tap-dancing! This is just one more 'for instance.'" Peg says disapprovingly, "The League is a swarm of LDS." Bill says blithely, "We juggle! (Don), you've been in Rotary for how many years?" Don allows that it's been a while. Bill asks Peg how long she's ruled over the PTA with an iron fist, and she says prissily that she's resigned. Bill ignores this warning sign and says that he sees the bigger picture. "We provide decent jobs for decent people. I'm proud of that. But I want to be more than just a store, and the League makes that possible. Some day, I'd like to give grants, support institutions, award scholarships. Look at that McDonald's widow. Look at Paul Newman," he says. Peg's wearing an expression that suggests she disapproves of both NPR and medical research groups. Stupid godless liberals trying to improve public health and discourse! After Peg storms out, Don confides, "Peg's become a purist. She will not voluntarily belong to any organization that does not accept us." So she's like Groucho Marx in reverse? I can't WAIT to see how Peg the purist reacts to the prospect of her sister-wives taking it to the next level. Oh, please, let that dropped plot thread come back to the fore.