David, alone in bed, awakens to the bleating of his phone. It's Nate, calling to see if David felt the earthquake. David says in a bleary "hi, sleeping over here" tone that he guesses he missed it. After some back-and-forth about why David's not in San Diego, Nate -- who's sitting in bed, in the dark, with Maya in his lap -- admits that Lisa hasn't shown up at her sister's. David asks the obvious questions about whether anyone's seen her, did Nate try Lisa's cell phone, blah, and as Nate answers no to each one, his face buckles. When he manages to choke out, "David, I'm really starting to freak out over here," David says he'll come over. Nate hangs up and rests his giant head on the giant head of his daughter.
Health club. A Samantha Fox-ish techno remake of Bryan Adams's "Heaven" plays (hee!) as we pan across a row of treadmills. The camera pauses on an older gentleman, then an obese woman, both of whom look sweaty, miserable, and generally like prime candidates for dropping dead of an MI, so we know that neither of them is going to bite it. Sure enough, the camera comes to rest on a hyper-fit and serious-faced young man with a cardiac monitor strapped to his bicep. He finishes his run with a little flourish, steps smartly off the treadmill, and doesn't even get to finish toweling his forehead before saying, "Uh!" and collapsing to the floor. If I've said it once, I've said it a hundred times: Exercise kills. Flick…ahhhh. David Raymond Monroe, 1971-2003.
In the kitchen at Fisher, Diaz, Aquarius & Jones, Ruth feeds a burbling Maya and says she's sure Lisa's fine. Nate's like, yeah, right -- then why hasn't she answered one of the squillion messages I left her? Ruth shrugs serenely that maybe Lisa's cell battery crapped out, and Nate semi-non-sequiturs that "it's been almost eighteen hours since I spoke to her last." Interesting, the way the episode keeps pointedly drawing our attention to the fact that Lisa's been gone less than a day. David points out that Lisa evidently "does this kind of thing from time to time" while doing a bit of stage business with Maya in the foreground that's very sweet, and Nate grumps that Lisa would have told him: "She wouldn't just take off like this." Ruth almost impatiently reassures him that "Lisa strikes me as very capable of taking care of herself," which of course doesn't address why she didn't take her capable ass to a pay phone or what have you, but in any case, Claire enters and, after trying some small talk about the earthquake, asks, "Why all the doom and gloom?" "Lisa is missing," Nate blares, but Ruth immediately corrects him that "she's not missing, we just don't quite know where she is." Claire blinks at Ruth, then says, "Holy shit." Then Nate's phone rings, but it's just a call about a funeral, and Nate tells the caller to come on in and they'll take care of all the arrangements. After he hangs up, David mutters that they already have two intakes scheduled, but at Nate's sigh of "great," David offers to round up Rico and Arthur and cover for him. Nate thinks he'd rather work and keep busy. Ruth tells him to do whatever he needs to do; she'll take Maya for the day. He thanks her and kisses her on the forehead, then stands in the middle of the kitchen looking around at his family for a moment, at a loss, before going to get dressed. After he leaves, David and Claire exchange a stricken look.
At a clinic of some sort, Rico and Vanessa's sister Angelica sit in the waiting room. Rico's phone rings; Rico leans as far away as he can from Angelica in his chair and answers in a whisper. It's David, bitching at him to come in because "we have three intakes this morning." Rico leans even further away and murmurs that he's got the kids, but he'll come in as soon as Vanessa's done with her appointment. In the background, Angelica regards him with a stare of utter contempt. Heh. "Fine," David passive-aggressives, and Rico tells not to start with the attitude; Vanessa is sick. David apologizes and tells him just to get there as soon as he can. Rico hangs up, and Angelica makes a "whatever" face. Nice try, Angelica, but what say you leave the "shut up, Rico"-ing to the professionals? Angelica coos sarcastically, "You know, you don't have to be here -- I mean, if your job is more important." "Yes I do, she's my wife," Rico snips, and Angelica snips back, "And she's my sister. I can take care of her too." She faces her magazine and smirks, "Maybe she needs a little time away from you, did you ever think of that?" Julio pipes up to ask, "Is Mommy sick?" Angelica quickly leans forward with a fake, "No, honey, Mommy's not sick. Mommy's just fine." She sits back, looking pleased with herself; Rico just stares at Julio like he's got a bugger hanging out. Weird acting choice there.