Casa Klutzy. Susan is paying bills or something when Mike's car pulls into his driveway. She watches him walk into his house. This is why I could never date a neighbor. I know myself. I would drive myself OUT OF MY MIND wondering what he was doing all the time: "Should I call him? Can I go over? No, I shouldn't go over. Well, if I wasn't sleeping with him, I would have no problems going over. But I AM sleeping with him and that changes everything. But does it change everything? If anything else it should make it MORE okay for me to go over. But I don't want him to think I'm getting too clingy. But we're SLEEPING TOGETHER. Yes, exactly." And that way lies madness. At least I know this about myself. But Susan, on the other hand, just puts on a babydoll nightie and calls Mike and asks him to cover over and help her find her pilot light. Then she hangs up real quick before he can say, "Open your broiler. It ought to be down there." Ew, I didn't mean for that to turn into some weird gross euphemism.
This cues up a humorous Susan Gets Ready To Have Sex montage, which includes her sprinkling rose petals on the bed and dancing around her bedroom, singing along to "Come and Take Me, Here I Am," which she puts on the stereo and cranks all the way up. It's really rather cute. Susan is kind of dim and all, and I have no idea how she managed to live this long without, you know, running face-first into a brick wall or stepping in front of a bus, but Teri Hatcher is supe- likable. She's all bouncing around, and, mid-flower spread, she has a thought: "Oh! Candles! Candles!"
Here comes Mikes across the street. I don't know what took him so long, but I suspect it might have involved some personal hygiene care and maintenance.
So Susan strolls into Julie's room to get some candles. Singing all the way. Oh, Susan. Having loud sex with the hot mysterious plumber while the semi-orphaned son of your dead best friend hides in the next room is beyond embarrassing. Speaking of, Zack hides behind Julie's door.
Despite the fact that Mike was stepping off his front porch when Susan remembered that she needed candles from Julie's room, he is now only about a third of the way across his lawn. If he walks that slowly, I am concerned about his ability to...you know, maintain. If you know what I mean. I mean, he must be awfully weak. That's what I'm saying.
Susan lights candles in her room, and hears steps in the hallway. She calls to Mike that she's upstairs, and arranges herself alluringly on the bed as Zack tries to sneak downstairs. Zack, you moron. You are totally going to get caught on the stairs. Hide under the bed, plug your ears, and think of England.