Day breaks in California and it is already sunny and people are already getting busy (in bed) because it is California and that is how they roll (in bed). Justin is using Rebecca as an anatomy study guide because in his magically combined BA/MD program it's not the organic chemistry or the physical chemistry or the biochemistry that is giving Justin such a rough time, no, it's memorizing the damn bones of the arm. First it was fingers and then the wrist and now the stupid ulna. Shut up! We get it, memorizing is soooooo hard. Harrumph. Anyway, Rebecca staves off his kisses long enough to tell him that she is going wedding dress shopping with Kitty today. She helped Kitty pick out her wedding dress, so it was only fair to reciprocate. There is some reference to a slutty bride, which I am going to ignore to see if it dies a slow painful death at the hands of irate feminists, and then Justin starts naming MORE bones of the body and I kick out my television screen. The End.
Okay fine. Justin is starting gross anatomy today and Rebecca tells him not to be nervous because nothing happens on the first day, thus dooming him to some form of educational execution. For science! Justin says that they get assigned lab partners today and Rebecca perks up and looks at him suspiciously and says that he had better not get randomly assigned a hot lady lab partner. And, honey, I am totally with you on this. While I have grown accustomed to these two being paired off, I can not (will not!) tolerate yet another needy Narcotics Anonymous hottie, another half-sibling almost (but not quite!), or, really, any other cheekbone-riddled seductor attempting to tear these two apart. Seriously, writers, there are other plotlines floating in the giant cauldron of ideas. Go fish for one.
To remind us that life is not happy and fun-filled and giggly, we now turn to Kitty, Nora, and The Senator sitting in a row in the doctor's office waiting for Kitty's test results. While Nora has a good feeling about it, the doctor quickly dispels it. She walks in, throws some CT scans up on the light board, and cuts right to the chase: the cancer has spread to Kitty's lungs, bowels, and the area behind her abdominal cavity. Okay, I will have to admit that I never thought I would be writing about Calista Flockhart's bowels. It's like I write for TMZ or something! Kitty is sort of stunned at the rapid-fire delivery of the bad news that her cancer has spread. Her doctor tells her it is Stage Three cancer. Her doctor swears that while this sounds bad, it actually is pretty much sunshine and lollipops compared to some cancers (which I hope I and my loved ones and all of you out there never ever get). This cancer is highly treatable and with proper treatment people can live long lives. The doctor lays out the treatment options: chemo cocktail in California (cocktail makes it sound downright enjoyable, right? Like it should have a little umbrella in it or something) or a new experimental drug regimen that is in trials in Boston. The trial in Boston is showing a slightly better prognosis, but you have to go to Boston for the six-month duration and there are some complications. The doctor tells Kitty that she needs to choose and she needs to do it soon. I wonder how long it will take for me to end up in tears this episode? There is a strict rule in my house that I am not allowed to watch medical dramas because I cry and not silently either. It's one of my more embarrassing qualities. I can't even watch Grey's Anatomy. How did this happen to me? Maybe it's some residual trauma from the ten years I spent watching ER only to have it brutally cancelled with only a hint of George Clooney to soften the blow. It takes years to get over a hurt like that.
Kevin is yelling at Gov. Kern's communication director, Travis (a.k.a. Travis the Traitor) over proper protocol when a visiting dignitary comes to California. The Senator is the ranking representative of the great state of California when it comes to visiting dignitaries and...oh who cares. It's a fake Very Important Phone Call fabricated just so Scotty can prove a point. While Kevin talks etiquette (and doesn't the gay man always win when it comes to Emily Post?), Scotty sits at the computer and somehow finds a crying baby sound effect file that he cranks up to 11. Kevin begs him to turn it down, but Scotty just sits and smirks until Kevin hangs up the phone and gives Scotty a big old WTF? look. Scotty explains that he's just trying to show how difficult it would be to have a baby while they both have careers to manage. Wow Scotty, you're sort of being a dick about this considering Kevin said he'd give you time to think about whether you want a kid. Why get so passive aggressive about it? Kevin walks out on him and he totally deserves it.
Holly and Saul make the rounds of a wine auction. They swish and spit and blither about a smoky after taste. Holly is planning on bidding on the wine, and so long as it stays under $5.25 a gallon that cheap wine (or overpriced grape juice?) will be mixing its dirty grapey bits with Ojai's finest. Saul assures her no one would bid on that swill. Swill? Nay! Holly swears that if you blend that wine with Ojai's ten-thousand gallon surplus you will get a beautiful mélange of flavors. Saul is unimpressed. He still doesn't think much of Holly and Rebecca's plan to sell Ojai's surplus as cheap wine with a pretty label. Hold the presses...who is that? Why it's the judge from The Wire who was getting fed confidential company information from Ryan Lafferty, who for someone who wants nothing to do with his good-for-nothing sperm donor dad, is pretty quick to follow in his father's embezzling footsteps. Saul pales when he sees the guy causing Holly to coyly ask if it's a former lover. For Liza's sake, Holly, give the guy some credit! Saul could definitely score a tastier morsel than that guy. Saul explains him away as a former co-worker. The man spots Saul and feigns surprise and claims to have heard a rumor that Saul's family had entered the wine business. Hmm, a rumor that stemmed from the files you stole? Saul fake smiles and introduces Holly to the man: Dennis York, gentleman farmer, cattle rancher, wine dabbler, fraudster. Holly smiles like her life depends on it (seriously, you can see her molars.) But her smile falters when Dennis opines that William would have approved of a woman running his company. Interrupting further enlightening discourse as to who the heck this guy is, the bell rings signaling the start of the auction. Or, lunch.
Nora and Kitty sit side-by-side in the kitchen working on their laptops, both presumably researching Kitty's treatment options. Nora has found a treasure trove of inspiring stories of recovery from lymphoma with the California-based treatment option. Nora is recounting one particularly inspiring tale and Kitty gasps in appreciation...of the wedding dress she is looking at online. Nora is unimpressed. She reminds Kitty that the doctor stressed that time is of the essence in making a treatment decision. Kitty is aware of that, but since she and Rebecca are going dress shopping, right now, tulle and crinoline take priority. Nora asks if Kitty is going to tell Rebecca and Kitty snarkily replies, "Yes, just as she is zipping up her Carolina Herrera." Whoa, Kitty thinks Rebecca can zip up her own wedding dress? That is some serious flexibility. No wonder Justin wants to marry her. Okay, sorry. The really interesting tidbit in that statement is that Rebecca can afford Carolina Herrera. How much does Holly pay her for her genius marketing schemes? Nora shoots Kitty with a look of disapproval, but lets her slide, almost. She reminds Kitty that she does need to tell people, because a support system is key to getting through cancer. (I hope you all pay attention to that, because we will be hearing about it a lot. I mean the whole show is about a support system. A very yell-y support system.) Kitty promises she will make the right decision, gives Nora a big hug, tells her she loves her, and leaves with N