Down at the Fairview soup kitchen, Bree is showing Andrew's photo around. Andrew, who is at the front of the food line, hears her voice and tries to make a break for it. But rather than skirt the room and slip out behind her, for some reason (bad direction? or maybe a secret desire to meet up with Bree?), he just pulls his hood down and walks straight for her. As he passes Bree, she (of course) recognizes him. She grabs him and cries out with relief, and then keens over the bruise he has on his face. He tells her that it's "none of [her] business," and then pointedly asks why she isn't "home taking care of [her] new husband." Yeah, he saw the wedding announcement in a paper he was huddling under it to stay warm. Bree apologizes; she knows that what she did was monstrous, but she's his mother, et cetera! Andrew: "You dumped your son at a gas station seven months ago. I'm somebody else now." Well, exactly. And yet, the things Andrew did to Bree were also terrible. And yet, and yet: her sudden burst of caring about Andrew is so profoundly maddening! Not that a person can't have regrets, but the fact that she flipped so abruptly makes it very hard to be sympathetic. I know that I keep harping on this, but...the last time we saw Andrew, Bree hated him enough to strand him with very little money, no inheritance, and no family connections, and now suddenly she's frantically searching under every tranny's skirt for him? I don't buy it. Maybe if we had seen just a hair of slowly mounting regret -- like having Bree run into Justin and discover that Andrew's gone missing or something, because hello, where's Justin in all this? -- that might have helped to get me somewhat on board with this. But whatever; Andrew and Bree are both pretty unredeemable in this scenario, so maybe they'll get to the point where their bad deeds just cancel each other out, giving them a fresh start. Moving right along: Andrew runs out into traffic, and Bree stands on the sidewalk, screaming, "Andrew, PLEASE!" as he scampers off into the night.
Lynette is having a great time. She's driving, eating a huge hamburger, and bobbing her head along to the car radio, which is blasting "Proud Mary," the CCR version. Her head stops mid-bob, however, when she spots Snora sitting on a rock on the side of the road. Lynette pulls over and rolls down the passenger-side window. Snora: "The guy grabbed my boob so I hit him over the head with his bong and I got out." Bongs are funny.
Back in the car, Snora apologizes for pitching a fit; it's just that Lynette's crack about suicide "hit home." Lynette is full of regret: she didn't know about Snora's history with suicide attempt(s). She apologizes, and then starts pointing out the many things Snora has going for her now: she's got a "beautiful daughter," and a "fun job at the Pancake House." Snora's working for Susan's stepfather, Bob Newhart? Hoo, I'd be interested in seeing a scene play out between those two. Also: hip, hip hur-continuity! Snora counters that that's easy enough for Lynette to say, seeing as Lynette's life is "perfect," what with the "husband" and the "career." Lynette: "Excuse me? Did you smoke that bong before you beat the guy with it?" Snora accuses Lynette of being a "supermom." ["Does 'super' mean 'horrendous' in Fairview?" -- Wing Chun] Lynette, ranting: "I work twelve hours a day, and then I come home to what seems like thirty-three children and a husband who refuses to get a job." Re: Tom, Snora says that "maybe he'd try a little harder to find a job if he didn't hate advertising so much." Snora, it seems, knows something about Tom that Lynette doesn't. Lynette, perturbed, wants to know why Tom never told her about his hatred of the ad world. Snora claims that he's "afraid," because Lynette's the "kind of woman who when someone says they want to kill themselves, [she] says 'go ahead.'" Lynette laughs dismissively, and then the "Woman Questioning Self and Marriage" music swells. Big wheel keeps on turning!