Julia's brought in her scrapbooks and wedding album, just like Kate asked her to. Nick wants to know what they're doing here, which is a question I really don't think a frothy NBC drama can answer. Kate says that all they have to do is establish that Julia gave her husband the exceptional love and support that enabled him to write the program. Julia shows off pictures of her "chocolate hazelnut truffle tower." Kate starts salivating, while Julia repeats what she said earlier about cooking being one of her finest qualities. I'm really enjoying the fact that neither of these people was employed, yet this woman is not only baking chocolate hazelnut truffle towers, she's TAKING PICTURES OF THEM and PUTTING THEM IN SCRAPBOOKS, like, how much do Americans get for welfare anyway? Nick's sitting there saying, "Settle, settle, settle," under his breath, while Julia's babbling on about how her husband didn't hate her cooking until she started having dinner parties, but it was the only way she could get him out of his office to socialize. That better be a home office. I hope the unemployed people weren't renting office space. Julia says she invited anyone to the dinner parties who she thought could help Craig. In fact, that's where he met the man who wound up buying his software program. Ding ding ding! "Congratulations, Julia! You made a match!" squeals Kate, like they're playing some stupid board game or something.
Kate's house. She and Victoria are enjoying Chinese food and reading out the fortunes. "Do not sleep in a eucalyptus tree tonight," reads Victoria. That's good advice. Because one time I…nah, I got nothin'. Kate reads one: "You will be married within the year." And within seconds, a Chinese culinary tradition has turned a nice meal into a grim contemplation of a future alone forever. "Let's get pizza next time," says Kate. Victoria asks her how "the Michael" is, and Kate says she doesn't know, so Victoria reads another fortune. "You have a friend. She's holding out on you." Kate magically knows that the fortune doesn't actually say that, but admits it's true. Kate seems a little drunk. She admits to peeking into Amy's PDA. Victoria salutes her for fighting "the good fight," but demands to know what Kate found. Kate says Amy's getting Michael a stripper for his birthday. Yeah. Because Amy seems exactly that type. Kate leaps to conclusions like Mr. Roper. "Good for Michael!" says Victoria, but Kate is all yelling at the top of her lungs, "Not good for Michael!" and explains that he is "so not" a "stripper guy." She says Michael will hate it and Amy will be completely embarrassed and never forgive herself. She wants to call Amy and tell her to call it off. No, says Victoria. Well then, how about warning Michael? No! says Victoria. Kate reluctantly agrees to keep her distance. But her phone rings, and she checks the call display, and…it's Michael, calling to invite her to his birthday dinner tomorrow night. Kate takes the phone into her bedroom and giggles and burbles like a lovesick teenager and, after expressing some reluctance to attend, she's won over by Michael saying, "The birthday boy would really like it if you were there." He's about to hang up when he realizes that this is probably his last phone call of his twenties, like AS IF he didn't have that several years ago already. Kate says she's honoured. Michael says he's terrified. So they can't hang up; Michael says he's not quite ready to let go just yet. Kate doesn't say anything, but we can hardly blame her, what with her skull being crushed by that falling anvil. Michael finally says goodbye to the last phone call of his twenties. "Thanks, Kate." They hang up, Kate making an annoyed noise before going stomping back into the living room, where she announces to Victoria that she's going to Michael's birthday dinner tomorrow night. But it DOESN'T MEAN SHE'S A LOVE ADDICT, she insists.
Cut to the Love Addicts meeting, a surprisingly packed L.A.L.A.A. meeting, Kate sitting in the back, with a woman named Renee up at the front recounting how, when she was a newcomer to these meetings, she'd take guys into the bathroom afterwards. And I think if you're supposed to be getting better, you probably don't want to sound as gleeful as Renee does here as she tells her story. "I'm the reason we kept losing our bathroom privileges. Sorry about that! I couldn't control myself knowing all you men were love addicts like me. It was dark, and public spaces make me hot." It's when she mentions the "crotchless panties" -- no word of a lie -- the moderator or facilitator or activities director or whatever the hell he is reins her in. He asks the crowd if anybody else needs to "get current" before they focus on steps. A young guy with scruffy hair and a beard gets up and shuffles to the front. Kate's shocked when he turns around and she sees it's Jared. So shocked, she doesn't even say, "Hi, Jared!" like everybody else does when Jared introduces himself. She's much too shocked. You know, perhaps sending a client on a date with a random stranger she'd talked to for all of about two minutes wasn't such a good idea. Commercials.