In his robe and pyjamas, Graham wanders down the stairs at Chase Place and heads for the kitchen, where Patty is sitting at the table, reading a magazine. She says she thought he was asleep hours ago. He says nothing. She sets down the magazine and says that the break-up of the Beatles "had less to do with Yoko Ono and more to do with the fact that Paul wanted Linda's father to be their new business manager." I've always said that -- well, that and the fact that Linda stroked Paul's ego so much he thought he was Superman, as opposed to his longtime girlfriend Jane Asher who actually kept his hubris in check. Anyway. Patty muses, "Why do you think people give her such a hard time? Is it just because she can't sing?" Uh, are you talking about Yoko or Linda, there, Patty? Graham chuckles and sips his juice. Patty says, "I've worked so hard to please him, you know?" Graham swallows. Patty shakes her head and says, "He doesn't realize what this is all costing me. He's never really known what I'm worth. You know, sometimes I think that I partly married you because I knew..." "Knew what?" Graham prompts her. "That you'd be a really good father -- a different kind of father." Graham recoils as if she'd just slapped him in the face. She continues quietly, "And you are." He turns away, shaking his head and looking sick. Patty climbs up on the counter. Graham stutters, "I don't want to lose her." "But you have to!" Patty tells him, "just for a little while. You have to let her push you away and not punish her for it. All she's doing is pushing you off your pedestal -- and she's right to do that. She has to do it; she's right on schedule. She's not a thousand years late, like I am." Graham shakes his head some more and asks what he is to do. Patty says, "Stand your ground. You let her know that no matter how hard she pushes you away, you'll still be there." He nods, and smiles feebly, and tells Patty he loves her. She says, "I love you too. So much." She leans forward in what looks like a really uncomfortable posture, resting her head on his chest. They embrace. It's nice.
The next day, we're treated to a shot of the eavestrough, totally crammed with leaves. A small stereo playing what I assume is the Grateful Dead -- though I'm proud not to know for sure ["unfortunately, I can confirm that it is they" -- Sars] -- is resting on one section of the eavestrough as Graham, looking kind of ridiculous in a baseball cap and aviator sunglasses, tinkers with it. It's pretty clear he totally doesn't know what he's doing. He sees Brian rollerblading in circles in the street between their houses, and calls to him to come help him. Brian looks up at Graham -- so we know he heard him -- but he doesn't acknowledge Graham in any other way and continues skating in circles. Graham's requests get increasingly desperate and then he gives up and answers for Brian, "'I'd like to help you, sir, but I'm too busy picturing your daughter naked.'"