Previously: Kitty came home; she and Nora fought; Justin saw William talking to Holly; Jonathan was That Guy; Sarah found irregularities in the accounting at Ojai; the editors inserted footage in the previouslies that we didn't see in the original airing; William pitched into the drink and croaked.
Fade up on the grave-side service, accompanied by mournful folk music. As the montage continues, Sarah makes some remarks; various Walker siblings look, stricken, at their shoe-tops; as the service ends and mourners begin filing away, Justin looks over his shoulder and spots Holly, who's wearing a pale dress and giant sunglasses, talking to Saul. Focus pull from a suspicious Justin to Saul watching Holly depart and looking tired.
Jonathan comforts Kitty; cut to Kitty at the Walker Manse, staring dully at a framed picture of William. It's three weeks later, as we find out when she and Kevin have a discussion about how Kitty thinks she "shouldn't be missing [her father] this much." We also find out that Kitty's going to be staying with Nora, which we sort of figured out from all the moving cartons piled up in the hall, and that Kitty and Jonathan have not broken up, no sirree, not at all, which we sort of don't believe because Kitty's so defensive, and also a horrible liar. Kevin's like, whatever -- drop some job-related exposition on me. Kitty tells him her TV gig starts tomorrow; the show's about "ballot-tampering in the swing states," and Kevin had better watch. "Woooow, who says politics isn't sexy," Kevin sarcs. Heh.
At the Whedons', it seems that Sarah forgot to buy the grass skirt Paige needs to play Hawaii in her fifty-states skit thingy at school. Joe comes into the room on Paige's heels to deliver a clumsy, hammy "and Scatterbrained Working Mom lets us down again" kind of a line that sets the tone for the rest of the subplot. Then he offers to help Paige make a grass-esque skirt out of construction paper, but Paige whines in a panic that she needs a real one, so Joe nags Sarah some more about how they talked about this, she has to do it because he has lessons all day, and she writes it down on her hand in Sharpie and snaps that she gets it, she'll do it. The kids rumble out the door, and Joe passive-aggressives that he thought "the whole point of giving up the big corporate job for the family business was" -- he nods after the kids -- "you know." Well, yeah. Couldn't have had anything to do with your charming habit of making her feel guilty about her career and the sometimes limited time she gets to spend with the kids. Instead of flipping him off, Sarah takes the bait, looks sad, and sighs, "Me too." She bustles out, past a teenage boy with a guitar strapped to his back. "Aloha," Joe says, mostly to himself. Shut up, Joe.