Jackie shrugs and tends to the lady, who asks hysterically if the guy is dead, but Jackie puts her at ease. She calls him "the greatest guy," like a "pearl in the dirt," and Jackie nods while she weeps. "I never get the nice ones. I'm like a creep magnet!" She says it's like God said, "Okay, that's enough assholes, Laurie," and sent her Zach. Grace is quiet, you have to look for it. Jackie promises guys like him bounce back every day, but she's not entirely comforted. "It was our first date." Beat. "He's not going to call me again, is he?" Jackie stares, because try and get my sympathy for not having enough men in your life, today of all days.

Gloria wanders the hospital with the baby in her arms, looking for its owner, past Mo-Mo counseling a tearful Zoey about something. Bet it's something nutty! Jackie rolls her eyes past some nuns and asks what it is this time. Zoey wipes her tears and shushes Mo-Mo, but he explains that God told her her hair was thinning. "He said I had a bald spot!" At wit's end, Jackie seriously goes, "Zoey, look at me. Stop going outside." I'm sure there was more to that thought, but just then she spots the bracelet on Coop's wrist and is horrified. She completely forgets that Zoey and Mo-Mo are there, and goes into a serious confusion fugue. "Daddy's gonna fix this," Mo-Mo says, and storms away from the still-weeping Zoey, who shrieks, "Mo-Mo, don't! God's mean!"

God isn't mean. God just tells you what time it is. The rest is mental illness, which is also not mean. It's a fact. God says, "At the tone, you will be an addict." Or, "At the tone, you will still hate yourself." "At the tone, your death will still be coming closer." "At the tone you will still feel guilty, for things you never could have controlled." "At the tone, you will still believe that you have failed your children." "At the tone, you will continue to call yourself a whore." "At the tone, you will still think drugs are the way out of the hole drugs put you in." That's what time it is, and that's all you get. Grace is pretty quiet when it comes. God doesn't tell you what to do with that information. He just hopes, and loves, and keeps counting.

Eleanor's in her office, begging someone not to hang up the phone, but they do. Jackie knocks on her door, and Eleanor quickly pulls it together. "Got a minute?" asks Jackie, and Eleanor throws her head back. "I've got millions." Jackie sits down, stressed: "I fucked up." Eleanor nods with a gambit well-played: "You certainly did! Those muffiny things were brilliant. Coop loved them." Yeah, and now he's got her bracelet too, bizarrely enough. Jackie explains.