So Juliet is apparently leaving home; Tripp is begging her not to go, which sickens Letitia to the point where she goes back inside. Tripp comes down to the curb, and Juliet earnestly tells him that if she doesn't make her life hers, there's no point to living. Interesting sentiment from someone who just swallowed enough pills to kill most land animals. Tripp smiles and tells her to go for it, and they hug. Those train tracks better be pretty transparent, Tripp. Juliet then has little success in calling for a cab, but that could be because the driver didn't want to get a hernia picking up her eighty-seven bags.
Jeremy's on the boat chatting with someone, and he suggests they go to the Bahamas. "I gotta get back, though, before I go to space camp." If we don't see that, I'm gonna be wicked pissed.
In a park somewhere, not Sheryl Lee but Brooke Smith is impassionedly berating Brian, saying the issue isn't money -- she just wants their son to get the education he would if she were a Darling, "and not just some piece of trash a Darling picked up off the street." Brian says they won't take him if he's not a Darling, so she shoves the kid (who's super-cute, by the way) over and puts his hand in Brian's. "Congratulations, baby. You're royalty." I don't want to sound naïve, but...can she do that? Brian calls after "Andrea," saying he can't just bring him home to his wife and kids. Maybe Naomi will take him -- they seem to have something in common.
The letter continues: "If I couldn't let go of the Darlings, it's because I couldn't let go of human beings. Because as human beings go, the Darlings are the most human of them all."
Candis Cayne is lying with her head on Patrick's chest as she begs him not to leave her. "I'll do something terrible." Patrick's wearing a Mona Lisa smile as he stares at the ceiling and distantly responds, "It's okay. I'm here."
At a restaurant, Freddy is telling Karen about some idea he has to make some instructional golf videos or something. She seriously asks him how much it'll be, and he breezes that it will just be a million, "to start." Karen stares at him. I'm really starting to like her.
Back in the helicopter, the letter winds up: "I'm so proud of you, son. Please forgive me. I know I wasn't the perfect father, but I did my best. Love, Dad." Nick looks out the window, and then closes the briefcase as the helicopter heads off away from us.