Terry, in his sweetly unassuming way, calls Ray and buries the lede.
Terry: "Uh, Bunchy got real upset, about something, and there's been a small fire."
Ray: "Of course there has. Why is this my problem?"
Terry: "Oh, the fire's under control now, but... Hey look, Conor and Bridget are here."
When Ray pulls up: Mickey's looking worried on the porch, Frances is tending to a balled-up Bunchy passed out in the yard -- his yard -- and Terry still looks beautiful and strong in his little sweater. Ray immediately starts screaming at Conor to get in the car, the better to get domestic on the grownups, but Conor's too stoned to deal, so Ray tosses him in the car and straps him in.
Mickey, "helping": "Ray Ray, take it easy! If you're angry at me, fine. He's just a little boy. Look, I'm sorry I didn't go to more of your football games..."
Even he, I think you can hear it, knows that was shittily blasé enough to get a response. But of course, there's always the huge part of this story where Mickey wants to tempt Ray over the line, into doing something -- maybe anything -- that will prove Ray is scum and/or ruin his life, so maybe that's what this is. Maybe he wants to get shot, hell -- he certainly taunts him about it before Ray drops him.
Either way, Ray's got him on the ground -- hard -- with a gun to his head by the time Bridget gets out of the car so MGW can get the hell away from the shockingly ghetto scene that is occurring, and maybe because she thinks (correctly) that she's one of the few things that will snap Ray out of it.
Several tense moments later, though, the scared kids balk when Ray tries to take them home. He's too scary, too big, too loud. There’s a gun to Mickey's head. And once again, Ray looks like the crazy one. (You spend the whole rest of the scene, even with everything going on, waiting for Jon Voight's sly little smile, in fact, from the ground. FWIW there isn't one, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen). And then Terry steps up in a big way, ten feet tall, with a bark so Fite-Club severe that Ray jerks to a halt.
"Stop. Raymond, I'll take them. Frances has got a car. We'll get 'em home. They'll be fine. But you've got to calm down. And you gotta get out of here."
Ray knows, he knows intellectually but his body also hears, that Terry is right. The kids won't even let him touch them, and flow into Terry's arms the second they can, weeping, and Ray, embarrassed, leaves. He's never looked so much like his dad.