Mike shows up at the hospital -- after a busy day of arriving in town, hitting local diners and talking to inmates -- to see how his awful wife is doing. Well Mike, she is awful. She immediately informs him dialysis is for suckers and she's way more interested in herbal therapies. After all, she is a nanny now and needs to also raise MJ, and she can't very well do that if she's in dialysis for twenty-odd hours a week. He resists, but eventually gives in to her usual agenda: In this case, her perspective on renal function as an unfair standard for her to have to meet. Susan is too special to need kidneys, Mike! Fuck dialysis, she'll get by on pluck! And if you don't support this suicidal course of action, you're a bad husband for being unsupportive!
Lynette and Renee meet with a hotelieuse about their ideas for her chain -- "Craftsman, but with Japanese accents," so I guess it's one of those hotels that also sells discount accent furniture -- and they keep finishing each other's sentences and being just so adorable that finally the lady has to comment on it. You know, how they're the best of friends and they've been together for 26 years and just started this business in an industry with which neither of them have any experience, and how they would never sleep with each other's husbands, this kind of thing. Renee starts to lose it, but goes completely over the edge when Lynette finds her a plate of oatmeal-raisin cookies, her favorite, and just like with Proust, the cookies unleash a torrent of memory and regret.
Lynette hauls the woman out of there after closing the deal and comes back to see what the fuck is wrong with Renee. The reason that she's crying, she moans, is that she did "something terrible" twenty years ago; Lynette's response is awesome: "God, who cares? Ten minutes ago, you did something amazing!" I love that approach. Lynette always has the right idea for about five seconds and then it goes wrong. Renee explains about how Tom and Lynette were on a break and she slept with him, and Lynette's face goes colder and stiller and lovelier than it's been in a long time. She flutters her hands in a particularly recognizable way and storms out, but then comes back because Renee's her ride.
In some ways, you lose the exit -- which was beautiful -- but on the other hand, it transitions well into the actuality of what's going to happen between the two women, which is that Lynette is going to be pissed for awhile and then calm down, because it was a long time ago and Tom has done many, many more disappointing things since then. So there's the obligatory scene in the car where Lynette tells her to stop talking a few times and then says the truest thing anybody's said on this show in a long time: "I do foresee a day far in the future when I might only hate you a little. You know what the worst part is? For the last twenty years, you two have been walking around knowing this, and I didn't." That is absolutely the worst part about a secret like this, is the fact that you were carrying on one way and things were actually another way, and you feel like a jerk. Anyway, she tells Renee not to tell Tom, and her only reason for asking this favor is a hearty Because I Said So, Asshole.