The airport. Mike stares at the Flight information monitors until David taps him on the shoulder: His son, Hank, is coming off the plane with one of the stewardesses. As David rushes over, Mike takes a deep breath and mutters to himself, "Okay, here we go." Hank walks up and David lifts him over his head, which Hank is way too old for, and it shows on his face. David introduces Hank to Mike. Mike: "It's nice to finally meet you, Hank." Hank: "Wow. You're young." Bwahahahaha! Mike's eyes go wide, which is ironic, considering all the bitching he did about turning thirty. I'm surprised he didn't burst into tears and kiss Hank's feet in gratitude. David jumps in, "I've got a whole list of activities we're going to do this week. Just chock full!" Mike adds, "Pretty cool, huh?" Hank semi-enthusiastically agrees. David grabs Hank's hand, and starts babbling on about the Science Center, and a cable car or something, and a rock-climbing wall that he wants to see, and he's so excited and happy to see his son, that he doesn't even notice that Mike's left behind in a passenger deluge at the bottom of the escalator.
Back at Brian's, "Gus" has finally decided to display an emotion: Utter Misery. The baby bawls away, as Brian frantically tries to get the pacifier in his mouth. Brian even puts the pacifier in his own mouth to show how it's done. "Gus" keeps wailing. Brian groans, "It's your pacifier, you should be sucking it!" "Gus" doesn't think so. The doorbell rings, and Brian stumbles over many baby toys in order to get to the buzzer. "It's about fucking time, I ordered it over an hour ago!" he snarls. Going back to the baby, he tries again to install the pacifier, pleading, "Gus, think nipple. Think cock. Whatever gets you there." Snicker. Finally, "Gus" takes the pacifier, and all of a sudden he's fine. This is why babies scare me. It's like taking care of a tiny mute menopausal paraplegic. Not that there's anything intrinsically wrong with being any or even all of those things, but you know, we're talking lots of patience, lots of attention, and I can't even deal with my own mood swings, okay? So forgive me if I just stick to visiting auntie status for a while. I'd direct that at my mother, but she's still not allowed to read these. Brian sighs, relieved, "Your old man's not so bad at this." There's a knock on the door, and Brian snarls as he opens the door, "You'd better not have forgotten the sesame noodles this time! I ordered this an hour ago --" Gasp! It's Pop Kinney! "Hello, sonny boy." Pop cackles. In surprise, Brian mutters, "Jesus!" Pop Kinney scoffs, "Well, you couldn't be more surprised if it was." He asks to come in, and Brian stands aside to let him. Pop compliments the loft, but adds, "It looks like a dump from the outside." Hearing "Gus"gurgle, Pop asks who the baby is. Brian fumbles that he's Lindsay's. Pop remembers Lindsay: "Tallish. Blonde. You used to take her out." Pop says that "Gus" is cute, and asks, "She leaves him with you?" Brian replies, taking the baby out of the car seat, "Sometimes." Brian asks his dad why he's out: "A lady friend? Aren't you a little old for that?" Pop says that's not it. Brian pauses, and then asks if Pop needs any money. Pop snarls, "No, I didn't come here for your fucking money." Like it's completely unprecedented. Brian's like, okay, what's up? Pop says that he's got cancer. Brian freezes. Pop continues that it's spread all over, and it was originally discovered during a routine physical last summer. Brian, holding "Gus" close, apologizes. Pop says that Brian's mother, who he irritatingly refers to as "The Warden," wanted to tell Brian and his sister, but Pop decided he was going to do it. A sister? Yesssss. You were wise to hide her. If you cannot be turned to the Dark Side, perhaps she will! Wait a minute, that doesn't fit. Cough. Sorry. Brian mutters thanks. "Gus" keeps trying to push away from him and see something, anything, Christ, this kid is bored. The Chinese delivery guy shows up, and tells Brian that he didn't forget the sesame noodles this time. Brian glares at him, as "Gus" tries unsuccessfully to fit his whole fist in his mouth.
David's, the next morning. David pours orange juice into a couple of Mike's Captain Astro glasses. In a voice that one would use with a slow five-year-old, David explains to Hank that Mike just moved in: "So all the funny things you see around here, like, uh, Captain Astro? That's his." Hank's hunched over the dining-room table, reading the paper, and mumbles, "He must be even younger than I thought." Mike, creeping down the stairs, heard that, and tries to creep back up. Hank announces that Cisco is up; David's like, "You read the stock page?" Hank shrugs, "Don't you?" Well, I don't, but Coop does. I prefer hiding my money in a sock underneath my mattress, and occasionally I set fire to stacks of it in an open field. Six of one, half freakin' dozen of the other. David shrugs that he generally sticks to sports, and pulls out a box of Cap'n Crunch. He asks if that's still Hank's favorite, and Hank sighs, "Uh, actually, I only eat sugar-free, non-fat, organic mueslix." Huh? Oh, right. Oregon. David's taken aback, but figures that it explains why Hank's grown so much: "You must be a foot taller than you were the last time I saw you." Hank, enthusiastically: "I wear a six shoe now. Dad bought me these awesome Adidas..." David's face falls, as Hank stops himself and corrects, "I mean, Gary." Ouch. Oooh. Ow ow. David thrusts his hand in the Cap'n Crunch box and gamely shoves some into his mouth. Hank hunches up some more and looks fairly uncomfortable, what with that size six foot stuck halfway down his esophagus and all. David grins that he's going to buy Hank "an awesome pair of pants to go with those." Mike finally makes it downstairs. He asks Hank how he slept, and Hank grins slyly, "Okay. How about you?" Mike, with a zoom-in flash, chooses to read more into that than there probably was. David kisses Mike and tells him to grab some breakfast: "We leave in twenty minutes." Mike asks what the rush is, and David replies, "I don't want to waste any time. We've got a million things to do. I'll get my wallet, and you guys get dressed." This has death written all over it. Mike pours himself some Cap'n Crunch, as Hank inspects him from behind the stock pages. Mike tries to engage him in conversation, asking, "So, you must be really happy to see your dad, huh?" Nothing. Mike tries again: "He's been talking about your visit non-stop --" Finally, Hank slams down the paper and snaps, "Look, I didn't want to come here, okay? At all. My mom made me, so I just have to put up with it until I can go home." And up goes the newspaper wall again. Mike's shocked. David jounces down the stairs, and grumps at them to get ready to go,:"We've got a big day. Pittsburgh's waiting for us." Kill me now. Hank glares at Mike and gets up from the table.