Liz and Maria in the kitchen, where Liz removes her first batch of "M&M Tabasco Swirl Cookies" from the oven. She's pumped that she came up with the recipe all by herself, which is a load of bunk, since my Joy of Cooking has a killer one -- it's a huge hit a family gatherings. She's making Max a care package. Maria, dropping a photo of Liz into what looks like a hatbox decorated by a preschooler, disapproves. I'd disapprove too, except that I really don't care. There must be a whole lot of nothing to do in Roswell. Maria says that Max is spoiled, that he hasn't even been gone a week. Liz blushes and tells Maria to let her finish, since Max "is calling in less than an hour." Maria asks if they're actually going to speak or just "breathe heavy into the phone" or perhaps "repeat each other's names back and forth and back and forth." I like Maria -- she's making my job much easier. Liz, excited, grabs Maria's face and kisses her lips, and just when things look like they might get interesting, in walks Isabel to rain on the Sapphic parade.
Isabel drops the wedding bomb, Liz and Maria pretend to care, and then Isabel, Filofax in hand, starts blabbing about stupid wedding traditions, like the garter toss, the chicken dance (can someone help me out here? What the hell is the chicken dance? The "I feel like chicken tonight" dance? When did that become a wedding must-have?), and bridesmaids. And since "you guys are the closest thing I have to girlfriends, I was wondering if you would be mine." Well, geez, Isabel, how could they possibly refuse, when you sell it so well? Especially since being in a wedding is so much fun. They agree with about as much excitement as Isabel seems to feel about the wedding, and I'm feeling like I've missed some details crucial to a full understanding of this scene -- and of Isabel's plotline -- and then I realize that I don't give a rat's ass. Isabel checks "bridesmaid" off her to-do list, wonders if the package is for Max, seconds the notion that he's spoiled, tells the ladies that Max doesn't know about her engagement and that she'd like to keep it that way, and then says, "Maria, I'm gonna need you tell Michael for me. Okay, see ya." And then she disappears, leaving Liz, Maria, and me with virtual whiplash. If Isabel's so jazzed about her impending nuptials, why is she so petrified to tell anyone? Loser. Maria turns to Liz and asks, "Did that just happen?" Yes, Maria, it did. I saw it. Unfortunately.