Because they seem to exist in a space-time continuum that's completely independent from the rest of the cast, Rico and Vanessa are already at their nighttime dance class, despite the fact that it was just mid-afternoon in the last three scenes. Step, two, three, four. Step, two, three, four. Spin. Spin. Step, two, three, four. "You're so good!" gushes Vanessa. "Very suave, and you look so handsome." Oh, so many "Rico Suave" jokes, so little time. Why hast thou forsaken us, Gerardo? The dance instructor finally calls for a short break, which gives Rico a chance to relax by the bar and Vanessa an opportunity to demonstrate that she's definitely in more of a manic state than she is actually cured of her depression. She babbles to him at about three million words per minute, and even suggests that their entire family go dancing every single night. I did, however, get a little giggle out of the giant belch she releases after guzzling an entire bottle of water. And pregnant or not, Justina Machado is still way hotter than Penelope Cruz. Rico can't even get a word in edgewise, so perhaps it's for the best that he's completely blind to the somewhat scary psychological state of his wife. On the other hand, I totally want some of whatever it is she's taking.
Back to Billydelphia. The kids are watching the Nathaniel & Isabel video, which consists of the same horrible five frames-per-second animation that's normally associated with seizure-inducing Japanese robot cartoons. Brenda and Billy are crestfallen at how awful it is, with Brenda opining that it "looks like those drawings you see in the mall by someone's third grade class." The real insult comes, however, when Nathaniel saves his sister's life through the power of a magic tear. "A tear?!" shouts Billy. "He saves Isabel's life with a fucking tear?" "How did it happen in the book?" wonders Brenda. "Mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," he answers. "Which makes sense!" Hee! It's funny, and also full of foreshadowing! Billy freaks out a bit about the way the video has been sanitized of all the book's dark undertones, and the only problem I have with this scene is that I can't believe Brenda wouldn't notice all the danger signs he's putting out here. She remains oblivious, however, even after Billy remarks that it was their dad who originally gave them the books, and now he's gone and the movie has ruined all their memories. "We're so damaged, Bren," he non-sequiturs. "We can go about our lives and pretend everything is going to be okay, but it never will be. Ever." He starts to cry, and Brenda starts to get clued in that maybe he's not okay here. "That's not true," she insists. "We're getting better, both of us." "I'm not," he replies with a sense of doomed finality. "I really don't feel like I am." She moves to join him on the couch, and gives a little pep talk about how Dad's death and her moving in has just dragged up a lot of issues for him. She wraps her arm around him and pulls him in close, and promises to stay and help him get through this with an expression on her face that says she's more than a little worried about what she might be getting herself into again. And then they kiss! And if you only knew how long I've been waiting to say that for real about a pair of overly-close siblings, you'd realize what a tremendous moment this was for me. Brenda reacts to the kiss with barely restrained horror, and she dives off the couch and runs for the door while Billy tries to insist he was just being "affectionate." "It was just a kiss," he claims. "No, it wasn't," she replies. Brenda bolts out of Billydelphia, insisting that she can't be around him anymore, and Billy is left to stand there alone and wonder, "What Would Creepy Jesus Do?"