Joan comes downstairs in her jammies and hears some vague grunting coming from the den. She goes to the doors of the den (beautiful, leaded glass doors, I must add) and slides one open. She sees Olive labouring to somehow get herself into bed by clutching at a sheet. That ain't gonna do it. Joan asks if she needs some help. Of course Olive insists she can do it. Joan comes in anyway, saying, "Well…since I'm here…I used to help Kevin, so...here, put your arms around me." Olive complies, but protests, "I'm not Kevin," as Joan lifts her into bed. Man, if she could lift Kevin into bed, she's stronger than she looks. Joan: "I know. Just…there you go." She pulls the covers up and asks, "Do you…do you need anything?" Olive: "Just sleep." Boy, I wouldn't want to be the person who has to help her with the bathroom. That's most likely poor Helen. Olive: "Good night." Joan leaves quietly, but before she's out the door, Olive starts crying into the sheets, trying to muffle her sobs with her good hand. Joan stops, unsure what to do. She goes out and closes the door gently.
Luke walks through the hall at school. Just behind him, Grace emerges from a classroom and sees him. She speeds up to catch him, but makes a great effort not to look as if that's what she's doing. Classic Grace. When she gets close enough to him, she says, "'GRAVITY_BOY has logged off'?" Luke: "Joan was trying to bust me for looking at porn." Grace (wearing a t-shirt that I think reads "Gum is fun but not on a cat") is alarmed: "You were looking at porn while we were on --" Luke: "No!" Then: "Do you -- do you want me to?" Ah, Luke. Almost as baffled by your girlfriend as Adam is by Joan, and still just as eager to please. Grace just shakes her head and suppresses a smirk. Luke: "Look, the Joan interruption was singular event, okay?" I very much doubt that, but let's move on. "If there's something you need to say…" But they've gotten too close to Adam and Joan. Adam's at his locker, and Joan's hanging affectionately on his back. Grace hustles past them, asking, "Checking your boyfriend for injuries, Girardi?" Adam: "No, Larry's been good…really." Joan calls after her, "Because I did such a good job of getting him ready to be good!" Hee. Adam's got his hood pulled up over his head. I don't think the hair people know exactly what to do with his hair, so they rely on hoodies and toques a lot. Fortunately, it totally works for him. Luke: "See, I find the 'loosen the cap' theory unsound. I mean, if it were loosened sufficiently…" Joan: "Bye."
He takes off as we hear Friedman intoning pretentiously, "'Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?'" There's Judith, saying, "Please don't," with Friedman hot on her heels. Friedman: "'Thou art more lovely and more temperate --'" Joan calls out to Luke at his locker: "Skipper! Your little buddy." Luke just glowers from his locker. Michael Welch has the glowering down, I'll tell you. That'll probably turn into smouldering once he's eighteen. Hurry up and turn eighteen, kid. Friedman: "'Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May --" Judith: "Forget it, Friedman." He's undeterred: "'And summer's lease hath all too short a date. / Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines --'" Judith: "I'm never, ever, ever going out with you!" He carries on with the sonnet: "'But thy eternal summer shall not fade / Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st; / Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade, / When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st: / So long as men can breathe or eyes can see, / So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.'" On "this," he gestures to Judith's person. Judith glances at Joan, who gives her a sheepish look, and at Adam, who's fascinated with Friedman's display, and then turns to Friedman: "Memorize Hamlet, and it's a date." What? Has she taken complete leave of her senses? If you ever needed proof that Judith's a couplet short of a sonnet, there you have it. Picture me sitting on my couch, looking like this. Will we have to call her "The Judith"? Friedman, without missing a beat: "The part, or the whole play?" Judith: "The play." And it's Shakespeare's longest play, too. I get the impression Judith knows that, but who knows if Friedman does? Doesn't seem to matter. Friedman raises his fists and pulls them down again: "Yes!" He runs off, hooting in glee. Joan and Adam look at Judith, stunned.