Karen fights with a contractor on the telephone about her broken pipes. She hangs up the phone after telling him that she'll just do the work herself. A strong chorus of "Independent Woman" breaks out in the background. It's followed by a healthy dose of "You Can't Always Get What You Want." Poor Karen. She pulls out a plumbing manual that she keeps handy for just these sorts of situations. Wow, she's so resourceful. Yawn. The wrenches, pipes, and plumbing pieces jump out and start to dance around. They're the backup dancers in Karen's pity-party musical. Double yawn. Any. Way. The door of the café opens. Without looking up, she calls out that they're closed. She notices Deb come in the door. Nathan's mother stutters, "I was hoping to get a coffee, to go." Karen doesn't say anything. She goes to the coffee pot and pours it into a carry-away cup. She says coldly, "Anything else." Deb answers quietly, "Biscotti." Karen put the cookie in the bag and tells Deb that it'll be $3.20. Deb hands her five dollars. The camera pauses on the bill in both their hands. The wrenches dance around and start to sing. No one seems to notice except me. Maybe that's because Karen and Deb have been hit in the head with the this-is-a-very-serious-scene stick. Deb doesn't wait for her change. She just starts to walk out. "Hey," Karen calls after her, "You tell Dan that if he wants to spy on me or threaten me or whatever the hell this is, he can do it himself." Deb says thoughtfully, "Dan didn't send me. I came on my own." Karen snarks, "So it's a coincidence?" Deb replies quickly, "No. I wanted you to know, everything that happened with you and Dan, I don't carry that weight around, and I don't care to." Deb steps back into the middle of the room. "Frankly, I think you've done a wonderful job raising Lucas. I've seen the two of you together. Quite honestly, it makes me a bit jealous." Deb goes on to say that she's not deluded enough to think that the relationship between their two families will be anything but awkward. Karen just listens as Deb continues, "I know how it is with you and Dan and our two boys, there's a lot of history there, but it doesn't have to be our history." And with that, she leaves -- slowly dragging her olive branch behind her. Well, it's about time someone started acting like a bloody adult. Welcome home, Deb, you've got our blessing to stay, and well done, Moira, you didn't totally suck in that scene.