George is back in the Fisher kitchen with Ruth, his ill-advised and oddly-timed visit to his daughter's place over. Brenda and Maya are there too, and the former is asking if they packed the latter's things. Ruth blathers a bit, and finally says to Brenda, "She's been so happy here." Brenda knows where this is going, and cuts it off: "Okay, George, could you please take Maya upstairs and pack her things?" George doesn't move. "Or do I have to call the police?" Brenda adds. Ruth reacts incredulously, but George jumps up to do as he's asked. Once Ruth and Brenda are alone, they face off across the kitchen. Brenda -- who has yet to express a word of appreciation for Ruth's taking Maya for six weeks without Brenda ever even saying please -- says she's just taking her daughter home. "After you left her here like a bag of garbage," Ruth says. Excuse me, Ruth, but does garbage have luggage? I think not. Brenda says that leaving Maya there was the most responsible thing she could think of doing at the time. Ruth says, "I never left my children, Brenda. I never left them for a second. I wouldn't. I couldn't!" Brenda skips right past the most recent and incredibly glaring counterexample, and just flatly says, "Nate fucked Maggie the night before he died." Ruth goes right into denial, but Brenda insists it's true. She says she needed time to work through her anger before she could be a good mother to Maya, "who I love as much as my own baby and who I am taking home." And then Brenda gasps in shock and confusion, because she's suddenly standing in a puddle of her own making. "Your water's breaking," Ruth says, pulling out a chair for her, and now it's Brenda's turn to be in denial, saying it's too early. Yeah, that belly of yours says otherwise, Enormo. Ruth tells her to sit, and hurries out, saying she'll get Brenda to the hospital while Maya stays with George. Groaning, Brenda lowers herself to her knees on the wet floor, panting.
Anthony and Durrell are at home, watching a Charlie Chaplin movie. This is what David rented? I remember my dad bringing home a couple of Charlie Chaplin movies once. He'd checked them out of the library, along with a Super 8 film projector, and played them on the basement wall. There weren't quite as many home entertainment options in 1975 as there are now, and even back then I would have been bored had I been twelve at the time instead of five. An apron-clad David joins them in the living room as Durrell complains, "This movie's gay." David reacts like he's been slapped, but he decides to take this as a Socratic teaching opportunity. "What is 'gay,' Durrell?" he asks testily. "Movies with no talking," Durrell tactical-retreats. Anthony asks about the pizza, which David says he just put under the broiler to melt the cheese some more. Just then there's a brisk knock on the door. David tells the kids to stay where they are as he nervously goes to answer it. "Who is it?" Durrell asks. David doesn't know. The knocking has now become a fierce pounding. David carefully approaches the door, wishing for a peephole and asking who's there. His only answer is the door being busted wide open, slamming him against the wall. A guy in jeans and -- you guessed it -- a red hooded sweatshirt -- stomps inside and heads straight for the boys, a wicked hunting knife in one hand. As David begs the man not to kill the kids, Anthony flees, but Durrell is slower and the man grabs him by the shoulder and savagely stabs Durrell twice in the abdomen. The sight of the actual stabbing is blocked by the invader's body, but it's still pretty gruesome, considering this is a kid it's happening to. Thank God for those sideburns. The killer turns his blood-spattered face to David, and we see for the first time that it's Late Nate, Jr., psychotically yelling, "They're gonna die anyway!" David's eyes bug out, shocked that Peter Krause's character died and he not only didn't leave the show, he basically got to play four different characters in this episode.