Boston. Charlie hands Jen a cup of coffee while she looks through the newspaper for a movie to entertain them during the Great Twelve-Hour Sex-Out. The boxer briefs that Charlie is wearing? Are really, really revealing. Like, I know things now, you know? Things about shape, and size. And religion. Things like that. Just so you know. Jen suggests a Fellini retrospective, but Charlie pooh-poohs the idea; he hates subtitles. Jen doesn't get this, the whole hating of subtitles. In fact, she rants about it for five minutes. She can't understand not taking advantage of "the best film has to offer." Charlie sort of sighs. "Is this some kind of problem for you?" he asks. Jen swears it's not, but she's lying. Charlie leans back in his chair, the better to display his, you know, stuff, and tells her that this little tiff is good! They're getting to know each other naturally! "You learn a little something about me, I learn a little something about you, and before you know it, twelve hours are up, and we can have sex again," he tells her. Jen sort of grins.
Grams's Giant Estate For Reformed Sexaholics, Gay Potential Frat Boys, And, Perhaps, The Head. Jack tells Grams that he got a bid from Sigma, and he's excited about it, but that Tobey called him "the gay Uncle Tom." I have an Uncle Tom. He's not gay, though. As far as I know. And I know that the reference is to Uncle Tom's Cabin, not to my family, but I feel like I haven't talked nearly enough about myself this week. Moving on. Jack admits that he is sort of filling a quota. If by "sort of," you mean "totally." Grams purses her lips and asks Jack how he feels about Sigma. Jack says that he feels like he's finally found a place where he fits in and is comfortable, but he'd be the only gay person in the house. Which might be weird. Grams points out that it sounds like that might be more of an issue for him than it would be for the guys in the house. Jack thinks about this, and finally tells her that she's right, but it's "weird" because that's not how he usually is. Grams raises her brows, and points out that it's how Tobey usually is. Jack nods. Grams smiles, and tells him that she's quite sure "these fellows" want him for "much more than filling a quota." Jack smiles at her. I wish I lived with Grams. She could make me cookies and feed me beef stew when it gets cold and give me advice about boys, and then force me to worship the Lord with her.
Capeside. Gale and Dawson are perched on a picnic table outside, fiddling with soon-to-be-fatherless Lily. I'd make some comment about Gale's floofy summer dress in the middle of October on the East Coast, where I hear it gets fairly cool come fall, but we all know that Capeside doesn't conform to any known laws of meteorology. The baby, it must be admitted, is extremely cute. Gale gently probes Dawson -- ew, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Ahem, okay. Gale asks Dawson about the nature of his relationship with Miss Potter. He admits that they are not back together, and that she did not ask him to stay in Boston. "It makes no logical sense, I know," he says, putting his head in his hands. The hundreds of tiny bones in his hands fracture under the weight. "The past few years…" he begins, and I turn over on the sofa and take a nap while Dawson spews more stuff about goals and dreams and film school and following his heart. Apparently, now that he is following his heart, everyone thinks he's crazy. Gale makes a thoughtful face and points out that people change, especially between the ages of eighteen and twenty-two, and, whatever he does, she hopes his actions don't prevent him or Joey from growing. "And, sweetheart, I'm not dismissing this beautiful idea of soulmates, but the reality of eternal coupling? Quite frankly, it boils down to one thing. Faith." Finally, Gale asks Dawson if Joey is someone for whom he is willing to take a "very big leap of faith." Dawson huffs.