The best thing about being married to a chef has got to be the breakfasts. Scotty asks Kevin for his steak and eggs order and Kevin blurts, "Bloody." Scotty notices Kevin's foul mood and tries to convince him to act reasonably or at least to chew his words twenty times before he speaks. Kevin isn't interested in playing nice, The Senator's old campaign worker is working for the governor's camp now and Kevin has an earful for "the bitch". When Scotty calls him on his approach, Kevin points out that the traitor wears argyle socks and loafers, what else would you call him? Scotty ponders for a sec, "European?" which is funny. I wish I could write their dialogue. Kevin is prepared for the negotiation to go well, in fact he already has a celebration plan: dinner with friends out on the patio of a local restaurant. Scotty reminds him that they last time they hung out with them he compared it to chewing chili peppers with a mouthful of canker sores. I so wish I could marry Kevin right now! Kevin blinks at the harshness of his own words and then Scotty is on to him: they have a baby. Scotty calls him out on his attempted baby pushing and Kevin backs down. Who wants Kevin to pressure Scotty into having the cutest baby every? I do!
Justin sits in the breakfast nook mumbling like a man on the bus going on and on about the bones of the wrist. He sounds like a schizophrenic off his meds, yet when Rebecca reads a fascinating headline about a feral child in Michigan (new motto: Home to the Saddest Sports Fans in the World) Justin glares at her like she is performing the entire dance routine from "Single Ladies" on top of his text book. She apologizes and moves on to cleaning the breakfast dishes. Justin asks her to please stop cleaning, which she does, then her phone rings and Justin begs her to go do anything else. Because studying must be done in the breakfast nook or he will not graduate and it will be her fault. Rebecca does her trademark whiny apology thing where she starts by saying sorry and then ends with an "I hate you". She then mumbles a rather clunky line about wishing she felt more inspired and you have to wonder whether the same writer pens her lines as Kevin's because they are seriously a lot worse. Justin gives her his new let-me-study-or-the-wedding-is-off look that he must have been practicing in the mirror when he was trying to remember the bones in the hoary eye because he has it down pat. Rebecca scoots before she has to return her engagement Honda.
As The Senator and Kevin walk into the meeting with the governor and are surprised to see Jimmy Carter there to negotiate the peace accord. Oh wait, that's Travis, the traitor. You would think campaigns would make their high-level employees sign non-competition clauses specifically so that they could not make use of insider knowledge and sell it to the highest bidder. Anyway, the governor pretends she is oh-so concerned about her dear friend's health, and The Senator plays along reassuring her that he is fit as a fiddle (which I think is pretty fit, but where do these expressions come from? Do you ever see a fiddle on a treadmill? If you do, will you send me a picture?) Gov. Kern smiles tersely and reminds him that he wasn't on the day in question. Kevin demands verification of their claims and Travis produces a copy of the doctor's report. Kevin points out that having that violates about twelve privacy laws and Travis shrugs. Gov. Kern sweetly expresses concern for The Senator's inability to tell the truth to the public. The Senator smilingly asks if she ever got treated for that STD she picked up from her Mexican paramour. She kindly points out that her affair was "merely anecdotal". Is "merely anecdotal" more like a Dirty Sanchez or a Dutch Oven? Kevin assures her that they have pictures, but he won't share if she won't, so my question remains unanswered. Travis the Traitor seems to think that a hushed-up heart attack is way worse than an affair in the eyes of the electorate. Er...wait. In the age of Gov. Sanford and Gov. Spitzer, not to mention Rep. Ensign, perhaps affairs are the new rite of passage into political lore. The Senator requests that since they are both equipped for mutually-assured destruction, they should perhaps learn the lessons from the Cold War and keep their tense peace. The governor agrees to keep her doctor's report in her pants, so long as The Senator keeps his dirty pictures in his. My, politics truly is a noble profession.
Kitty has driven all the way to Walker Manor to talk to her mom. It's like a solid hour and a half from Santa Barbara to Pasadena, you would think she would call first to make sure her mom was there. Oh these Walkers sure are wacky! Oh wait, I'm not allowed to mock Kitty this episode. I take it all back. Nora is so pleased to see Kitty. She begs her to go swimming with her, but when Kitty declines, Nora insists she drink some water instead. Nora extols her own skill at doing the most amazing things with water. She adds lemon AND cucumber. Man, if only Ruth Reichl knew that tip, Conde Nast would never have closed Gourmet. Kitty smiles and takes the cup of water. She tells Nora that she has an appointment -- a doctor's appointment. Nora asks if everything is okay and Kitty tries to pretend that everything is awesome with two exclamation points, but she fails really quickly. Sally Field is a master of the falling face and when Kitty says it's not all okay, Nora goes through all the stages of grief as her face falls from lemon-cucumber water to dying daughter in all of a second. Those Gidget producers sure knew what they were doing when they found her. Kitty is prattling about how she wanted to go to Sarah, but Sarah is in France (still), and Kevin is busy and Nora tells her to stop it and tell her what's wrong. So Kitty spills the whole story about going to the pediatrician and getting a blood test and then getting another test and being sent to an oncologist. At the word oncologist Nora's face falls even further, which I did not think was possible, but I am not an actor and certainly not one of Sally Field's skill and she can apparently sink her face lower than physically possible with the power of her mind alone at the mere thought of her daughter going to an oncologist for god's sake. Kitty sees her mom's face fall to inhuman depths and starts tearing up and begging her mom not to panic and then Kitty starts to panic and she starts talking about Evan and then I'm tearing up because how can you not when a new mom might have cancer and is talking about it to her mom? Nora snaps her out of the spiral long enough for Kitty to tell her that the doctor told her not to come to the appointment alone. Nora sprints for her purse.
I never cry in real life, but fictional tragedy gets me every time. Also Johnson & Johnson commercials. Luckily there is a commercial break so I can pull myself together, blow my nose, and muster my dignity so I can move on. Ooh look there's Nora rocking the boyfriend jean like a woman with twice as much bone density in her newest Boniva commercial. She also frenches a dog. Okay, tears gone!
Over at Ojai-ai-ai, Holly is wearing her glasses and a purple dress that completely covers her chest, so you know she is serious when she tells Saul, "Wow." Saul nods sagely. The numbers for their high-end wine sales aren't looking so good. I thought Rebecca had been marketing one of their wines to the thirtysomething crowd (see what I did there?). I just remember some junior high science project-looking tri-fold poster board that everyone was gushing over. Their wine sales are tanking with the economy and they need to re-strategize. Saul tells Holly not to worry, he has the incredibly-qualified and highly-experienced Ryan coming up with a few new ideas for the surplus wine. Yep, when the market's tanking put a twenty-year old poli sci major in charge. Good plan, that. Saul pinky swears that Ryan is really showing potential. Holly looks skeptical, cue Rebecca's entrance. She is all done with her work and really wants some extra credit. Holly asks Saul to bring Rebecca up to spe