The inside of a Quaker meeting hall, at least on TV, looks a lot like any other church, only smaller. There are maybe half a dozen pews on each side of the aisle, and about fifteen people scattered among them, including Maggie. I don't get why they're all in forward-facing pews for a meeting when they were in a circle for last week's funeral, but at least they're all sitting in total silence. At least until Nate and Brenda come charging in, still bickering loudly. Maggie turns in her pew -- as does everyone else -- then gestures them to the empty pew across the aisle from her while they at least have the good grace to look embarrassed. They sit down and wait to be filled with the presence of God. I screened this scene and the one after the next for someone who knows a lot more about Quakerism than I do, our own Miss Alli. I was disappointed that she didn't see anything that immediately made her shout, "Wrong!" For instance, the Quakers weren't wearing black clothes and bonnets, like they often do on TV. She did confirm later that having everyone face the same direction wasn't correct, but the first inaccuracy she noticed was that "there should be more people in sweatpants."
Rico comes home to a rather fancy-looking Vanessa. He excitedly asks if they're going out. Vanessa says she is, without him, and that Rico shouldn't wait up. Disappointed now, Rico asks if the boys have eaten. Vanessa snaps that Wednesdays are his night to take care of dinner. "You have one night a week, I have six. Order some pizza if that's the best you can do." Rico says he'll cook. Vanessa reminds him to clean up. "Okay, I get it," Rico grumbles. Vanessa tells him not to make her the bad guy. I'd say that's looking like a team effort at the moment. Rico says he's fine. "Just go," he says. Vanessa just goes, Rico's balls securely in her purse.
At the Quaker meeting, a gray-bearded gent has just finished explaining that everything's "in remission" and he and his wife "are feeling very blessed." He sits. Silence returns for an unspecified amount of time. Some folks have their eyes closed, and some don't. A slow dissolve later, an older woman stands up and asks if anyone can give her a ride home, since she took the bus. The woman in the pew behind her clasps her hand, and the speaker gratefully sits down. Miss Alli says that wouldn't happen, but it's being presented as something that wouldn't happen, so it's okay. I can't tell if this scene is trying to make fun of Quakers or not. It won't commit to saying that Quakers are weird; at most, it's kidding about Quakers being weird, but it might be kidding on the square.
Another long dissolve later, Nate stands up. Brenda, who's been feeling like a subject in an experiment on clinical boredom, would probably be annoyed if she weren't so relieved to see that something interesting might be about to happen. Nate announces that it's nice to be there: "All day long I deal with death and stress. And it's nice to be in a place of peace. That's all." As he sits down, he looks to Maggie for approval, and appears to get it. And then, almost as an afterthought, he takes Brenda's hand. She appears to be over her relief now. Then the grey-bearded gent starts singing, "We are gentle angry people / and we are singing, singing for our lives." I thought this was a Quaker hymn, if there is such a thing, but it turns out to be a Holly Near song written in 1979. Everyone joins in (Miss Alli: "That wouldn't happen") but Nate and Brenda. Nate looks content; Brenda doesn't. I think it's odd that we never saw the front of the hall. I also didn't expect Quakers to harmonize so well (Miss Alli: "No").