Lynette and Gabby are lying face-down on massage tables, in the middle of a blooming garden, under a white tent, surrounded by Greek statues. The spa, it seems, is somewhere between luxurious and insane. The men doing the rubbing are muscular and tan and good-looking in that gym sort of way. Gabby is babbling about how stoked she is that Tom agreed to take the kids camping, and how glorious it is to be at the spa considering all she's been through (this, I fear, might be our last and only reference to her latest unexpected disappointment in the "making babies" department): "This weekend, I'm all about relaxing and rejuvenating --" Lynette: "Gabby? Could you be all about shutting up?" Lynette is mean. Gabby's cell phone rings; it's Tom. Lynette pantomimes a paroxysm of "no, don't hand me the phone," but Gabby doesn't notice (revenge for the "shut up" comment?) and hands Lynette the phone. Tom's back has gone out. Yes, again. The way his back collapses whenever Lynette really, really needs him to stay with the kids sure is suspicious. The scene on Tom's end is pandemonium: Tom is lying on his back with his head propped up on a rock (ha!); the three P-boys are jumping and running and screaming, and Penny is standing in the tent, alone, sucking her thumb and looking shell-shocked. Tom yells at Parker to "put down the damn ax!" In short: Lynette must leave the spa and come to the rescue. Lynette hangs up and says, "God, I hate my life." Gabby, eyes closed, supremely relaxed: "I know, I wouldn't trade with you for anything."

Susan and Ian are up at his cabin, and by "cabin," I mean a gorgeous and huge rustic mansion with Craftsman stained glass and cute vintage fixtures. And a lamp made of deer antlers. Susan comments on the gorgeous view. Ian, looking at Susan's ass, agrees. Ian is maybe creepy? Next, the two of them embark upon a long, uncomfortable exchange about where, exactly, she should commence her unpacking, as in: will they be sleeping in the same room, or separately? Finally, it's agreed that Susan will be in the guest bedroom, and she grabs her bag and heads off. Only, cringe, it turns out that Susan's accidentally grabbed Ian's bag, and sitting right on top of the bag is a long strip of condoms. If it were me, I'd have tucked that particular round of ammo into one of the suitcase's many, many pockets versus just letting it float around with all the clothes in the main compartment, but okay. Meanwhile, Ian opens up Susan's suitcase and unfurls a very sexy nightie. So much for her promise to Coma Mike that this thing with Ian is "just dinner." Susan bursts into Ian's room and, with much blushing, they exchange bags. Ian: "Well, I'm just going to, uhhh--" Susan, finishing his sentence: "Hide pathetically in your room? Me too."