Bree gets sober with the help of Peter, her hempy AA friend. But after three weeks of hanging out with him, it seems Bree's passion for wine has transference-ed into a passion for Peter. Unfortunately, Peter is not only an alcoholic, but a sex addict too, which at first blush sounds like great news to Bree (they kiss, he tears off his shirt, and shirtless Peter does not disappoint). But just when they get to frenching atop Bree's dining-room table, he catches himself -- this is a major fall off the SA wagon -- and instead of taking off his pants (as Bree clearly expects), he just takes off. Later, to remove himself from temptation, Peter lines Bree up with another AA sponsor (her name is Donna and she isn't nearly as crushworthy as Peter). Bree takes the rejection badly, and she and her coral cashmere sweater go directly to a local watering hole and get stinking drunk, and nice Peter is forced to come to her rescue once again. Andrew's lawyer makes an appointment with Lynette to take her deposition (about how drunky Bree passed out while babysitting the Scavo Ps) for Andrew's upcoming emancipation hearing. Lynette isn't actually sure who to believe -- the recently sober Bree or Andrew's black-and-blue photos? So Lynette has a little chat with Andrew, who manages to let his creep flag fly, which convinces Lynette to state for the record that Bree is a great mother. Karl proposes to Edie under the assumption that the wedding will take at least six months to plan (and thus there'll be plenty enough time to divorce Susan). But Edie plans a surprise wedding and, of course, tells Susan all about it. Susan goes limping (she seems to be somewhat endlessly recovering from surgery) off to tell Karl. To buy time, Karl cooks up a plan to tell Edie that he wants a big wedding that needs tons of planning. But Karl's scheming is null and void-ified when Dr. Ron tells Edie how Karl and Susan are secretly married. Surprise! Edie is not pleased. For punishment, she makes gimpy Susan bartend at the wedding shower, and makes Karl agree to pay for a ridiculously expensive wedding. (And yet...wasn't Karl's lack of liquid assets the reason that he said "I do" to insurance fraud with Susan in the first place?) Also: Karl kisses Susan at the shower. Carlos and Gabby's adoption plans are put at risk when stripper-mommy Libby's boyfriend shows no interest in waiving his paternity rights. But when Libby confesses that the baby isn't his, and that the father is in fact unknown, the adoption is back ON. Libby has the baby, and after a brief, three-second hesitation, Gabby falls in love with the scrappy little infant. But just as Carlos and Gabby are baby bonding, stripper Libby's boyfriend shows up at the hospital and threatens to set himself afire if Libby doesn't name the father. Libby confesses that the baby-daddy is her boyfriend's younger brother, meaning the father is now a known entity and the adoption is at risk. Gabby panics, and she and Carlos escape the hospital with the babe in arms. And while this seems like the iffiest of iffy plans, what with Solises being pretty easy to find, maybe in Fairview -- the haven of baby-stealers -- infant possession is nine-tenths of the law? Oh Fairview!
Previously: just everything that went down last week.
This week's MAVO flashback intro paints the rosy picture of Bree and Hempy's budding romance: "On her first day of sobriety, Bree Van de Kamp found a cork, which reminded her of Chablis." Bree huffs the found cork deep and hard, à la Dennis Hopper in Blue Velvet. MAVO: "So she called her sponsor, who came over with a DVD, which they watched till her craving had past." We see Hempy and Bree sitting there on the couch with a big bowl of popcorn between them, and they're just laughing and laughing. MAVO: "Five days later, after she developed a thirst for merlot, Peter arrived with a deck of cards." We see the two of them playing what looks like Spit and, again, there is the laughing and laughing. Next, MAVO tells us, Hempy came bearing "Chinese takeout" in responses to Bree's dangerous "thoughts of vintage chardonnay." And in the Chinese food flashback, the hilarity has reached such a fevered pitch that Hempy's face is shiny and veined with the strain of so much laughing. Meanwhile, Bree looks happier and more carefree than I think I've ever seen her. And, oh my god...she's drinking a Diet Coke directly from the can! Without a coaster! Are we really sure that Bree is sober? MAVO: "By her twentieth day of sobriety, Bree had stopped thinking about alcohol altogether, because her thoughts were now centered...elsewhere."
In the now, Bree and Hempy are playing chess at the dining-room table, and they are sitting awfully close -- maybe the chess-club kids had the right idea after all? Checkmate INDEED. Bree takes one of Hempy's bishops with her knight, and then launches in on one of the weirder preambles to a proposition ever: what, she is curious to know, does Hempy think is the best method for overcoming addiction? He gamely lists "shock therapy" and "hypnosis" as potential approaches, but cites the "one day at a time" approach as his personal favorite. When he asks Bree why she wants to know, she tells him she guesses she's just "impatient to get on with [her] life." And by her "life," it's clear that what she really means is her "plans to rub down Hempy's naked form with essential oils."
With the land thusly tilled, Bree leans in and kisses Hempy lightly on the cheek. He looks up at her with alarm, and then he starts scratching his chest like suddenly he's broken out in his very own case of the kissing rash. Bree tries to breeze the kiss off as just her way of thanking him for being so nice to her these past few weeks. When Hempy doesn't respond -- in fact, he looks like his mind's been completely imploded (and, having recently attended a local high school's take on Cats, I know the look well) -- Bree voices some concern. Hempy finally manages to confess that not only is he an alcoholic, but that he's also a member of "Sex Addicts Anonymous." Bree laughs like he's just told her about his addiction to unicorns. Poor, sheltered Bree. After a beat or two, she comprehends that he's not joking, and says, "But it was just a kiss on the cheek!" Hempy: "Doesn't matter. The slightest touch gets my juices flowing." Much like a Thanksgiving turkey. Bree, with suspect sympathy, asks how long it's been, and he mournfully confesses that he hasn't...stuffed a turkey (my euphemism) in a whole year. Bree can almost taste those juices now! Hempy babbles on about the "plant, pet, person" rule that they have at SAA; once he can manage to keep a plant alive for a period of time, and then do the same with a pet, only then can he "can start dating again." Bree: "So, how are you doing [with that "fern, fido, fellatio" thing]?" Hempy, wryly: "I'm on my fourth ficus." Bree, all "speaking of ficus," leans in and plants one right on his lips. Then, without at all recognizing that she's just done the irresponsible equivalent of someone handing her a drink, she says, "See? I think you can handle affection better than you give yourself credit for." So sweet. And yet so totally selfish and unaware and retarded.