Brookshaven. Grams and Mr. Brooks play bingo. Well, Grams does; Mr. Brooks stares into space, and when Grams notices, he says he's just a little tired. Grams suggests stopping for the night; she has to get home anyway. She starts boxing up the bingo set as Mr. Brooks regards her fondly, and when she asks, "What?" he says, "Kinda glad that Leery kid stole my boat." Grams shakes her head and reminds him dryly that they'd met before; he came to the church bazaar and bought two of her apple pies, and complained about the price as well. "They were peach, and worth every penny," he mock-grumps. Aw. "Mmm, a compliment!" Grams says sardonically. "Ten years late, but nice to have all the same," and she gets up to put away the bingo set. Heh. When she gets to the sideboard, she sees an open tin containing a rainbow of pills; Mr. Brooks hears her pick it up, and says defensively that he has to stay alert to play board games with her. "This is not funny, Arthur," she snaps, expositioning that he's skipped weeks' worth of medication, but he says that he knew she'd understand. I don't see the big deal; the survival rate for cancer of the pancreas, even with aggressive treatment, is something like five percent for one year. The medication he's taking manages his pain, but it doesn't affect the disease itself, so I could understand Grams arguing with Mr. Brooks's stubbornness in not wanting to take pain medication, but other than that, it's really a non-issue -- it's not like he's hastening his own end by refusing the pills. But it's not like the writers did any research into it, either, so let's move on. Grams wants to know how she could possibly understand "something like this." Mr. Brooks reminds her that living without dignity "is not living." Grams takes his hand and tells him firmly that he's in God's hands now: "There is a natural course of events." Mr. Brooks responds that, as long as he can think for himself, he will determine those events; it's in his hands, not God's or Grams's. Again, this isn't really an issue. If he's dying of pancreatic cancer and isn't undergoing chemo and radiation, which we can probably assume he isn't, the medication is immaterial except from a comfort standpoint. Anyway, Mr. Brooks asks if she'd want any less for herself. Grams doesn't answer, just looks at him sadly. Then she gives him a lingering kiss on the cheek, and he smiles, and she kisses his hand like Joey did Pacey's in the earlier scene, and he kisses her hand back and bids her goodnight. After she moves out of the shot, Mr. Brooks rests his head on his hand and looks tearful again.
Coffeehouse. Tobey's friends hail him from a table; Tobey waves back, then tells Jack to "pick [his] poison -- regular or decaf," but Jack is shooting a look of obvious dismay over Tobey's shoulder at the friends, and he asks Tobey, "Can I talk to you?" Uh oh -- does anyone else smell smoke? Jack pulls Tobey aside and grunts that Tobey didn't tell him they "were meeting another couple." How he knows it's a couple, I have no idea, but whatever -- Tobey stammers that he "didn't think it was important." Jack says that "it kind of is," that it's late on Saturday night and Tobey wants him to meet his friends: "I'm beginning to think this is more than just coffee to you. Is it?" Tobey looks like he might cry, then recovers to say that he'd really "like it if it were." Jack stifles a bitter laugh before asking if Tobey started "the tutoring thing" because of him. Tobey grudgingly admits that possibly it's "part of the reason" and he thought that "it was something we could do together." Jack sourly confirms that Tobey's whole friendship line "was just a set-up to be with me." Oh, lighten up, Jack. Tobey makes the mistake of admitting that Jen told him to pursue the friendship angle, and Jack says that friendship is "fine," but he wants to make it clear "that there's not gonna be anything more, ever." Then Bart frame-by-frames through the shot and we see Ralph Wiggums's heart breaking apart in his chest. Then Tobey asks in a stricken tone, "Why not?" Jack says, not quite believing that Tobey doesn't get it, that they "don't click," and even if Tobey wanted to change that, he can't. Tobey hopes desperately for a hole to open up and swallow him. Jack sees this, grimaces in sympathy, and says he knows it won't make Tobey feel better, but he really does "wish [they] had something." Ouch. As the flames rise higher, Jack thinks aloud that maybe it's not such a great idea for them both to keep on with the tutoring; Tobey tells Jack that he's "great at it," and he should keep going, so Tobey will "find something else." Then Jack retracts the statement and tells Tobey to forget he said that -- there's no reason they can't both continue tutoring, as long as Tobey doesn't have a problem with them staying just friends. "I'm fine," Tobey lies valiantly, the frames of his glasses beginning to melt. "That's fine." Jack says he'll see him next Saturday, and leaves. Tobey collapses in a pile of ash.