Hostility Hodge Lodge. A driver from Mama Hodge's home comes to pick her up, but he very conveniently needs to come inside and use their facilities. Orson shows him inside, and Mama Hodge gets behind the wheel. Bree, still trying to smooth things over, gets into the passenger's seat. Mama Hodge, screaming, "I'm not going back to that place," puts the pedal to the metal and drives the van right into a fire hydrant. The driver, you see, he left the keys in the ignition.
Back inside. Mama Hodge sits in the foreground, her hair wet from the hydrant geyser. Behind her, Orson and Bree Whisperence: Bree wants Mama Hodge-- you know what? I just can't call that woman "Mama Hodge," it's just way too down-home for a woman this rigid. So, Bree wants Gloria to stay with them for a few weeks -- just until they can find her a cute apartment. Orson: "No, I absolutely forbid it." Bree wheedles: if only Orson had heard how sad Gloria was out in the car? Orson: "I don't care, my mother's not moving in here until she fits in a jar on the mantle." Bree wonders, as do I, what Gloria could have done to earn such black, bitter ire from her son, but Orson wants to leave the past buried in the past. Gloria, who's been listening to every word, interrupts with a request for a private word with Orson. Bree smiles encouragingly at her mother-in-law and leaves the two of them alone.
Gloria gets right to it: if Orson refuses to let her stay with him, she's going to tell Bree all about the true nature of their "quarrel." Orson's face is a rainbow of agony and indecision, but he gives in. Gloria notices Bree watching them from the other room, and she tells Orson to give her a kiss, to "make [their reconciliation] look real." Orson looks as though he's just been asked him to french kiss a viper. And, in a sense, he has! But he leans in for a peck anyway. Over his shoulder, Gloria smiles at Bree, and Bree smiles right on back.
Susan is out jogging when Gabby's cab rolls up. Susan gleefully asks for all the news about the big modeling shoot, but Gabby is clearly embarrassed: She thinks, actually, that it might be time for her to go into another line of work, though clearly she's not at all certain what else she knows how to do. Here's something, Gabby: The way you whipped up a skirt and bikini top out of an apron, I'd say an audition for Project Runway is well in order.
Lynette and Parker are over at Art's house, cake in hand. Parker goes to knock on the door, but it swings right on open. They step inside, Lynette calling out Art's name -- sure, Lynette, just make yourself right at home. She puts the cake down on the table, and starts to leave Art a note. Parker runs over to a huge train set that's all set up in the living room. He turns it on, and Lynette distractedly tells him not to "touch anything." Parker follows the train back into the house, and the angle of the shot -- the camera's way down at foot level -- gives me a sudden chill. Uh oh. Lynette finishes up her note and goes looking for her son. The train tracks lead to the basement, staying at ceiling level while the stairs lead downstairs. And the basement is packed with all sorts of vintage toys. As Parker gleefully dings away at a vintage pinball machine, and as Lynette stares at the vast collection with wild, childlike amazement, and as the "Something's Terribly Wrong" music swells, I start to get that sinking, Neverland Ranch sort of vibe. Oh boy, oh boy. Or should I say, "Oh boys." Because that's exactly what Lynette spies next: a wall full of photos of half-naked boys. Oh...so that's why they called the episode "Children And Art"? I somehow thought it was going to be about macaroni necklaces and refrigerator paintings. I feel queasy. And Lynette is right there with me. Her face crumbles into horror and she quickly gathers up Parker and they make a dash for the door. Art sure set up shop pretty fast for a guy who just moved in! Blech.