When we return, instead of heading to the car or even hobbling down the street as fast as his shellshocked legs will carry him, Don has wearily made his way up to the bedroom. With the box next to him, he settles onto the bed, and after a long moment, he hears Betty in the other room and calls to her. She comes in, and after some cursory discussion of the baby, he quietly asks her to sit with him, and she obliges, a questioning but less angry look on her face. After looking at her with an expression that's almost guardedly hopeful, he shows her the pictures again and tells her who everyone in them are -- Archie, Abigail, "Uncle" Mack -- as well as the story of his mother, "a twenty-two-year-old prostitute" who died having him. He mentions that Mack was nice to him, which I never got but I suppose hasn't specifically been contraindicated, and Betty asks what happened to them. Don tells her they're all dead, but when Betty further inquires, "Even Adam?" it's like a gut punch, and I can't be sure if he was definitely planning to tell her about him. Mistaking Don's horrified stare for mere incomprehension, Betty says she's referring to the little boy in some of the pictures, whom she assumes is Don's brother. Don slowly flips ahead to one of the pictures of him and Adam, and in a small, breaking voice, says that Adam was his half-brother, and he killed himself. He hangs his head as he tells Betty how he came to him wanting to be part of his life, but he turned him away because he "couldn't risk all of this." He starts to sob as he tells her the method of Adam's suicide, and Betty tells him she's sorry, her anger replaced by wary compassion. At least, that's what I'm assuming -- it's getting hard to see all of a sudden. She puts a consoling hand on his neck, and in an episode where one character couldn't see the value of psychiatry, isn't it interesting to see the therapeutic effect on Don of, you know, talking about these things?
Still in the office, late at night, Roger makes a call to an unidentified presumed business associate on Joan's behalf, saying how great she is and how he wants to help her out. It's a nice contrast to the stuff with Annabelle -- he may think of Joan as his One That Got Away, but he's letting go with goodwill and no regrets. Really nice week for Roger Sterling, even while sucking down enough vermouth to, if certain focus group members won't cry at the expression, kill a horse.
Joan's setting the table when Greg comes home and unexpectedly apologizes, even bringing flowers and saying he's going to buy her another vase to put them in. He doesn't seem like he's got a concussion, but just you wait. Joan just looks sad, saying buying things isn't really the issue, but Greg tells her he's just been feeling sorry for himself because he couldn't "solve this problem," but he figured out the solution -- he joined the Army. As Joan takes this in, he explains that not only will she be taken care of, he'll also get to be a surgeon again -- the Army's desperate for them. Well, I can imagine that the kind of surgery regularly needed in the Army is possibly not going to be as delicate, on average, as in a hospital, but I suppose the more salient point is that servicemen aren't known for suing the medics for malpractice. He says he'll just have to do six weeks of basic training and then will be able to complete his residency in New York, after which he thinks they'll send him somewhere, "maybe Vietnam if that's still going on." Can't remotely laugh at his lack of foresight given where we are in the Middle East, but I can allow myself a smile at the idea of never having to see Greg again. Except for those times in the future I replay Joan breaking the vase over his head, which will be numerous and frequent. Greg tells Joan that he'll be going in as a captain, and that means he'll get paid enough that Joan won't have to work. Overwhelmed by the mixed emotions, Joan says she doesn't know what to say, but he happily asks her to please tell him she's glad for the news, because it makes him happy to think of providing for her. She finally smiles through her tears and tells him it's wonderful, and he suggests they should go out. She agrees, but when she walks forward, the look on her face suggests anything but joy. Hate to tell her, but she's pretty much alone on this one.
Don't know how long it's been, but Suzanne finally gets out of the car, and I wouldn't feel nearly as bad for her if she didn't have to lug her overnight bag as well as her emotional load. But it's an age-old story -- he went in for a pack of cigarettes and never came back. Meanwhile, Don's brushing his teeth in his pajamas, and when he's done, he takes a moment to wonder whether he dares believe Betty finding out the truth might not end up so bad. I hate to have to opine that the jury's still out on there.
The next morning, Don wakes up to find Betty gone. He sees two suitcases standing on the floor, but I think they might be hers from the trip and she just didn't have time to unpack. He takes another look at his no-longer-secret pictures, and then goes to get dressed...
...and then he comes down into the kitchen, where Betty asks if he wants something to eat. He uncertainly asks if she's having something, but Bobby interrupts to ask Don if he's coming trick-or-treating with them. He says he is, of course, and then steps forward and puts his hand around Betty's head, and while she doesn't give anything back she doesn't resist, either. He then makes a point of kissing each of his kids, including the baby, before telling Betty he'll see her that night, which she again neither acknowledges nor denies. And here I thought the Draper household couldn't get much more taciturn.
Don gets into the office and tells Allison to cancel his plans, as he has plenty to do. Yes, figuring out how to word an apology to someone you left in the car in those circumstances may take a while even for someone of Don's talent with words. But no, he calls her straightaway, and when she answers it's pretty clear she's been crying. She asks if he got caught, but when he tells her it's more complicated than that, she knows it's over, even as she asks if that means she won't see him anymore. He tells her, "Not right now. No," which may just be a way of softening the blow rather than a genuine attempt to keep things open, but when she asks if he's okay, he's gut-punched again: "Only you would ask about me right now." She fearfully inquires if she has to worry about her job, probably in reference to the fact that she's still unclear if Betty knows about her, and this is a bit troubling, because if she ever runs into Betty and assumes she does know, she might spill something she shouldn't. Don, however, just tells her she doesn't have to worry, so she bids him a tearful goodbye...
...and then that evening, the family is waiting to go trick-or-treating when Don arrives home to find Sally and Bobby sharing the episode title by dressing as a gypsy and a hobo, respectively. Betty again asks Don if