In two weeks, Landry saves his dad by damning himself, and not even Tyra can fix what happens next. But this week, out in the hall, Tami suffers a moment of buyer's remorse: "We're doing the right thing?" And Eric kisses her, but what he's saying is, "Shh, shh."
"I wish it was roomier, Santiago," says Buddy, his eyes so full of begging there's no room for tears. And then the sad, sadder, saddest part: "I didn't think...I was going to be here this long." And Santiago answers this first question, eyes full of the same hope and fear: "This is the first real bed I ever had." Not even Buddy can handle that level of...whatever this is. He scoots, and Santiago sits on the first bed he ever had. He sits, and takes out a stack of letters with Mexico stamps and sad, lonely addresses, and slides them under the pillow, and is very lonely. Stuck into a place he never expected, with demands of such magnitude he's only just glimpsed them. Being a son again. His arms, and his legs: he's so big, for such a small bed.
Okay. All right.