Okay, so over in Boston, Helen is seriously wearing, like, a negligée to dinner. "Typical. Tramp," the Scully action figure sniffs. It's this low-cut, sheer white lace number, covered by a very slight bed jacket. It's totally inappropriate. She and Jack and CJ chat, and there's some confusion over which of them is Jen's boyfriend. "I don't know what the gays look like, these days," Helen twitters, complimenting both of them on their dashing good looks. Yes, because New York City is a Gay-Free Zone. On cue, Jen enters bearing snacks. "Technically, I am her boyfriend," Jack says. Jen sets down the vittles and announces that, technically, he's not, because he doesn't have sex with her, if you know what she means. CJ wonders if that's the only real difference between him and Jack, and as a girl who's had many, many gay boyfriends, I have to answer honestly, and say that sometimes, yes, that is the only difference. But it's a really important one. Then there's some tiresome business about how Jack is the only friend Jen will have in CJ's absence, and I'm glad to see the writers admit that Joey is not Jen's friend, but Helen is sad to hear that Jen has no one in her life. "You were always so popular," she chirps. "Yeah, that's called putting out, Mom," Jen smirks. My mother would have been appalled by that kind of revelation ["mine would laugh -- go figure" -- Sars], but Helen has no time to arrange her face into the appropriate horrified expression, because here comes CJ's Crotchety Old Man, Uncle Bill, screaming for Grams. "I've got some business with this skirt and I'm not leaving until I see her," he informs the room. I think it would amuse me to be called a skirt. In fact, I'm making a mental note to work more old time-y slang into my vernacular.
Eventually, Grams emerges from the kitchen and wonders what on earth Bill is hooting about, and he announces he's had a shamus on her tail. "You are full of malarkey," he yells at her. She tells him primly that now is not the time to discuss this, and he retorts that this is exactly her problem. "You want to compartmentalize things and it's making you sick and that's why you have cancer and it's eating you up," he yells. At the C-word, Helen and Jack both blanche, and eventually Helen and her hooters get up and approach Grams. Put those things away, Helen. Someone's going to lose an eye. "Mom, is this true?" she asks. Grams admits that Uncle Bill speaks the truth, but says that she didn't want anyone to find out this way. "Look, I don't want to watch another woman who I love give up," Uncle Bill says. And his sentiment is admirable, although his syntax is not. "Were you sent here to this earth to die alone with your knitting needles, or were you sent here to live a little?" he asks. Jen just sits on the sofa and blinks placidly. Grams waves her arms around and says that she isn't alone. Bill nods that he can see she's surrounded by plenty of people who "give a damn," and that he's one of them. She clasps his hand. "Grams, aren't you gong to thank Bill for doing your dirty work for you?" Jen asks primly. Jen, aren't you going to stop treating your grandmother like a four-year-old? She's got cancer, she hasn't had a lobotomy. Grams responds that she was about to do just that. "You mean nobody else knew?" Bill asks, and Jack tells the entire room that he's pretty shocked. "Jen, what's up? You weren't going to tell me?" he asks. Grams steps in and apologizes, and Jen explains that she had so many questions about how they were going to get through this that she just needed her mother's help. "Grams, you can't try and be a rock here because it's not making you any happier or any better," she pleads. Helen takes a seat and wonders what she and her hooters can do to help, and this is when Jen suggests that they all up and move to NYC to live with Helen. "I don't really even want to fight about it or discuss it, I just want it to be okay," she announces. Jack makes a series of thoughtful, semi-constipated faces as Grams sputters something about imposing, and Jen continues to explain the glories of New York: apparently Helen is five minutes from the best hospital in the country and she's got a big old house, and also, there's all that wonderful theatre! Helen readily agrees to this plan of action.