...but Lynette spies hero neighbor Art out watering his lawn. Lynette taps Art on the shoulder and delivers very heartfelt, very choked-up thanks for saving her life last week, and she vows to bake him a cake as a demonstration of her gratitude, which she explains is "huge" since she never bakes cakes. I'm sure that thing is going to taste just great, then. Can't Lynette do something nice for Art, like hire Bree to bake him a cake?
Hacienda Ho-Ho-Hodge. Bree's got the Christmas carols playing and Andrew's been enlisted to help fold the "family newsletter" into the handmade Christmas cards, while Bree addresses the envelopes. Orson: "Christmas cards already? It's not even Thanksgiving." Really, Bree. Sending out cards before the last traditional turkey sandwich has been gobbled is actually kind of rude. And to really gleam the cube, Bree's actually adding a sprinkling of metallic confetti to each envelope, which really just blows. When you're expecting just a safe, regular Seasons Greeting card and instead you unleash a spray of tiny pieces of crap all over your life? Merry, merry Christmas (in November)! Now go grab that Dustbuster! ["Yes, I am shocked that Bree would be so gauche." -- Wing Chun] Andrew snarks that the newsletter Bree's concocted is packed full of lies. Bree: "Nobody wants to read the truth at Christmas." Orson: "Well said, darling." Bree sends Andrew off to switch the music and then grills Orson for his mother's address, but he tries to put her off by explaining that his mom is too gaga to appreciate a card: "She'll only try to dunk it in her coffee." But Bree insists, and finally he relents. Turns out Mama Hodge is living in a home just a half-hour's drive away. Bree is shocked that they haven't visited her, considering their proximity. Orson, his "anger management" techniques wearing thin: "Bree! I refuse to sit in a room that smells of disinfectant and lime Jell-O and make small talk with a woman who doesn't remember me. Now let it go, dammit!" As Bree stares at Orson, shocked by his outburst, the merry strains of "Sleigh Ride" jingle forth from the family stereo.
Susan and Ian are back from dinner, and Susan is fretting that Julie is going to know that they cut out of dinner early out of worry for Julie's well-being (re: last week's near-death experience), and Susan doesn't want to seem "overprotective and clingy": "It's been a week; I'm getting on her nerves." Ian and Susan concoct a tale about the food being so terrible at the restaurant that they staged a walkout. But then, as Susan points out, how to explain the tinfoil swan of leftovers that she is so desperately clutching? Is that a nod to Gladstone's in Malibu? Because that's the only restaurant I've ever eaten at that shapes its leftovers into statues of waterfowl. Susan and Ian brainstorm some more about what excuse they're going to give as they walk up to the house, but it turns out they don't even need an excuse, because when they walk in, Austin and Julie are making out on the couch. Austin is, of course, topless, but not at all "of course" are the buttons to Julie's top, which are distinctly not buttoned! Susan rants, Susan raves, Susan orders Austin to put his shirt back on. But he can't: he arrived shirtless. Of course. Hey wait a second, is Austin wearing military-issue dog tags? Does he have a secret past in the armed services? Oh, wait. Austin leaves, and Julie screeches at her mother for laying into Austin. Why, if not for that walking torso, she could be dead by now! Susan asks for Ian's opinion on the matter, and he actually sides with Julie and the whole "two people in a crisis" line of thought, but then he sees where his support of Julie is going to leave him with Susan, i.e., not inside her pants, and he downshifts abruptly and tsks Julie for being a "very naughty girl." Susan grounds Julie for two weeks and forbids her to see Austin. Julie, like the rational woman her mother so is not: "Mom, I like this guy, and I'm sorry if it makes you unhappy, but I'm going to keep seeing him."