When the phone rings, it's Roger, alleging to be worried because Janet's still not home. I suspect he was secretly giddy at the excuse to call Susan. Before either Roger or Susan can get too exercised over the prospect of Janet's mysterious disappearance, she's walked in the door. Roger expresses his relief by snapping, "Where the heck have you been? I was about ready to call the police!" Janet doesn't answer. Instead she blurts out, "I don't want to move. My life is here. My work is here --" "It's a temp job," Roger says. "I was offered the advice column," Janet says, squaring her shoulders. "I don't want to leave my friends," she adds. "Who? Henry?" Roger says. Oh, now you're interested in Henry, Roger? Janet corrects him: "Susan." Roger declines to reply that one of the reasons they're moving is to get away from that flame-haired temptress. He tells her she'll make new friends. Janet continues, "I don't want to make new friends. I know you wanted this job. I know I promised to stand by you. But I don't think this move is the right thing for our family." Roger rebuts, "Well, that's my decision to make," right as I gasp, appalled, "No, it's not!" Janet says, "It is our decision!" but Roger continues, "You might be the heart of this family, Janet, but I'm the head. And if I say we're moving to Cincinnati, we're moving to Cincinnati, and that's it! End of discussion." The first time I watched this, I turned around and gaped at Mabell all, "I can't even comprehend that ..." and she said, "It used to be like that. We were raised to expect that our husbands would get final say. Your age group is the first one to be raised differently." Oh, Swingtown -- illuminating generation gaps since 2008. Anyway, Roger flounces out of the kitchen, leaving Janet to wonder if perhaps it's time to revisit the head-heart model of the family.
Then it's the next day, and we're at the party. Someone's whipped up a fake traffic sign -- "Caution! Adults at play" and there are revelers galore. Tom is busy tending to his clambake, and Trina saunters over to confirm that her odiferous adversaries are indeed meeting a terrible death by fire. Susan and Bruce come over and comment favorably upon the scope of the party and Tom says blithely, "The only good way to close out the summer with a bang. Speaking of which, I'm going to need your house keys." Bruce balks at the idea of joining the key party. "I think we're just here for the seafood." "Seafood is a powerful aphrodisiac," Tom says, but the smell is still making Trina hurl. Most unsexy!