A pretty raggedy-ass golf course on a misty afternoon. Tim walks up and overhears his dad good-naturedly taking some money from some dumbasses as they wrap up a game. His dad saunters toward him and is laconically surprised to see his son there looking for him. They hug, and we cut over to a diner where Daddy "Caddyshack" Riggins ("Daddyshack"?) signs Tim's paper and acknowledges he's in no position to give fatherly advice. These two "catch up" by sitting stiffly and talking about how "real good" they're doing these days. Daddyshack says that he's on the wagon for the past six weeks, by way of explaining why he isn't buying his seventeen-year-old son a beer. Long, awkward pause. At the exact moment Tim moves to leave, Daddyshack asks if he can hang out for a while. This is exactly what the Bad Advice Doctor ordered! Daddyshack reminds Tim that he's got $200 from those suckers he swindled at the golf course, and offers to buy his son dinner.
Jason and Lyla sit in his jeep -- which has a "For Sale" sign on it -- Jason apologizing for his spectacularly disastrous "engagement announcement." Lyla shoulders some of the blame herself, telling Jason that she shouldn't have been hiding it from her parents in the first place. Pause. Lyla takes a deep breath before continuing to employ lame feminine stereotypes to steer her in the right direction (c.f., cheerleading competitions). She tells Jason that she knows he'll think this is "a total girl thing," but that she's always had a vision of what her wedding would be like. That she'd be 25, a big reception, dancing, toasts. And then Jason continues to employ his recent physical trauma to come up with sad sack complaints: "And you don't think you can do that with me any more." Lyla whines that that is not the issue before explaining that she hasn't even applied to college, that he hasn't said whether he plans to go. Jason looks at her, "You think I'm not going to college now?" She tells him, honestly, that she doesn't know because they haven't discussed it since the accident, and all he talks about these days is Herc and quad rugby.
Jason tells her that he's lost his legs, not his brain. Finally, someone said it! What we've all been yelling at our televisions ever since Jason Street singlehandedly reintroduced the word "cripple" into our lexicon: cripples go to college, too! He continues, kind of meanly telling Lyla about what they'll have: a big house, picket fence, puppies, "that whole thing you dreamed about." Lyla interrupts him and demands that he acknowledge that "I have a life, too." Jason unconvincingly says that he knows that. Though, to be fair, we have not been led to believe that Lyla Garrity ever asserted this whole "I have a life, too" thing before Jason's accident, so he is perhaps not used to dealing with someone not surgically attached to his lucky star. Lyla says she doesn't think Jason thinks about her life, and that he even thinks it's "lame" that she has these concerns. That "lame" kills me; so exactly how people almost always have to resort to imperfect and inarticulate language when trying to discuss major issues like "life." Lyla finally says that she thinks they're a too young and they are rushing into this, she doesn't want to make a mistake. The word mistake echoes in the quiet car until Jason snarks, "Message received, Lyla, loud and clear." More silence. Then Jason, quietly, "Can you please get my chair for me?" and Lyla sweetly obliges, hopping out of the door with his backboard in tow. Brutal.