Jake spots a plow making its way through the snarled traffic, and without a word, bounds out of the car. He runs up and hops on the plow, pounding on the window. The driver neither ignores him nor brandishes a gun in self-defense. Instead, he rolls down the window and asks what the hell is going on. Jake explains the deal and pleads with the guy to take him to Lily's place. The driver's a sport and agrees.
Rick slowly leads Tiffany out of the bathroom toward the bed. She asks Lily why she put such a nice blanket on the bed. Lily pulls it off and asks Rick to put it in the closet. Tiffany crawls onto the bed and whines, "I just wish I was at my own house so I didn't have to worry." Lily slips a pillow under her head and coos, "Sweetie, you don't have to worry about anything. Everything we have is yours." Tiffany whimpers and moans, while Lily ministers to her, and Rick watches adoringly from the doorway. "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said about Jake," Lily says. Tiffany says it's okay; she agrees with her. Tiffany whimpers it's just that he's not there, and neither is anyone else she's related to, and she doesn't have any of her own stuff, and she feels like she can't even make any noise. She clenches against a contraction and tries to hold in her scream. Lily tells her that she should feel comfortable doing whatever she feels she needs to. "You have very definite ideas about how you want to do this, and I'm no expert." "Stop saying that! I don't need an expert!" Tiffany shouts. Lily looks shocked for a second, but then lays down with Tiffany, cradling her head and whispering that everything is going to be okay. And that's when the power goes out. "What's happening?" Tiffany asks. Rick surmises that the power lines must be down. Brilliant deduction, that.
During the break, they scrounge up about a thousand candles, which are blazing away everywhere. Rick's busily trying to boil some water in the fireplace, and he asks Grace to search out more candles and the kerosene lamp in the garage. "This is like Little House on the Prairie or something," she mutters. Tiffany swats away Zoe's hand as the kid tries smoothing back her hair, snapping, "Zoe stop it! I don't like that!" Her head should start spinning in three...two...one. Zoe apologizes and looks hurt. Rick gently sends her on an errand to take her mind off it. Tiffany sweats and clenches and grits and groans and basically does a good job of convincing me that childbirth isn't something I'm eager to do. Grace stands, transfixed, and asks Lily if Tiffany is okay. Lily assures her that everything is normal. Tiffany whimpers that she's going to be sick. Grace rushes to find her a vessel to puke into, putting it under her just in time. I make a mental note to double my birth control dosage in the morning.