The baby-sitter's stretched out across the couch in a midriff-revealing top and short denim skirt, like your basic Penthouse letter opening paragraph. But the actress plays it sweetly and innocently as she greets Mr. Spatafore, telling him that his wife went to the hospital with her mom, and that the kids are in bed. From the Vito-POV shot, looking down the baby-sitter's top, I was convinced that Vito was going to rape her as a way of denying the rumours, if only to his own confused self. But he doesn't, and that's another thing I like about this show -- the underlying tension that keeps you watching, keeps you guessing.
Instead, Vito packs a bag, going through hiding spots around the house where he's stashed cash. He also takes a framed picture of his and his wife's wedding, which he looks at for a long moment. He kisses his daughter goodbye, and then his son, and then with thunder crashing and the rain soaking the night, he drives off down the highway, with nothing but a big ol' plate of ribs to keep him company. Well, that AIDS rumour won't have any circumstantial evidence much longer, anyway. His cell phone rings, so he answers it, after first taking care to wipe his sauce-coated hands all over his pants. Please, people, cut the guy a break; he's running for his life. Plus pants are much easier to clean than upholstery. Vito checks the caller ID, which lets him know that "Phil L" is calling, and he sighs sadly, and closes the phone. Then throws it out the passenger-side window. The amazing thing is that the ringtone changes, somehow becoming more plaintive as it flies out the window and clatters onto the side of the road. If a cell phone rings in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does an asshole still cut you off?
Vito might have thrown the phone out a little early, though, because the rain (presumably) has downed a tree branch right across the road. He manages somehow not to see the tree before it wedges itself right up under his front driver's-side wheel-well. He curses, and gets out his rain poncho (who actually has a rain poncho in his car? ["Oh, you know how persnickety the gays can be about their outfits" -- Wing Chun]) and his suitcase, and trundles off down the road like Wide Red Riding Hood.
Before I presume too long, because it's still pouring rain and Vito hasn't dropped dead from the walk, he finds himself in "Dartford, New Hampshire," a place I'm told doesn't actually exist except in the minds of New Hampshire Tourism officials. Better news: there's a Kiwanis chapter in town!