Esteban and Nancy have a short conversation on the patio about having babies ("Again") and getting married ("Again. Again again, actually"), and her beauty, in which they try to convince her that she's ecstatic about everything, and she admits to a certain fear that Mrs. Esteban Reyes, like Lacey LaPlante before her, is going to end up trying to kill Nancy Botwin, and he's like, "Why do you always think somebody's trying to kill you?" and she looks at him, sort of hilarious and doleful at the same time, because: Dude. So he says that he loves her, and he's marrying her, and she can keep her name if she wants. He's still going to brand her, he jokes in his postfeminist way, and she laughs in hers, but she's still kind of amazed that Mr. Male & Mine is willing to give her that one, enough that she kisses his hand, and laughs as he goes off to fencing practice. "Have fun, D'Artagnan."
Andy appears as Esteban's finishing up his fencing match, and full of hilarious and loopy comments about the opulence -- the peacocks, for example, he figures are "probably roosting" -- before shit gets totally awkward. Esteban points out that he looks crazy nuts, and Andy replies, "Right on!" before picking up a fencing sword of some sort and playing light saber with it for awhile, to Esteban's irritated amusement. Finally he asks WTF Andy is even doing, and Andy makes some crack about how in Mexico they don't even have sound effects, and then suddenly they are fencing. And it goes on for awhile, but finally ends -- with Esteban's blade across Andy's esophagus -- just as Nancy wanders out toward the pool and asks what the hell. Andy's bashfully happy to see her, but when Esteban tells her Andy's there to give them his blessing, Nancy heads right inside.
In the kitchen, she admits it's true about the wedding, but when he says this is "sudden" she reminds him that he's missed out on a lot, avoiding her for six months. He says the note she left him told him all he needed to know, and tries to shame her about leaving him with just a note. He asks if this is really what she wants and then laughs and says of course it is, because she always gets what she wants.
And I mean, we're halfway through the season, stop addressing the viewers like we're fussy children and just tell your story. Yeah, Nancy's an entitled asshole, and everybody cleans up her mess, and Botwins have no accountability. We know. Stop telling us you know that we know, and just tell your story. The first time is flattering, the second time is annoying, and the third time isn't even pandering, it's just obnoxious. This is at least the sixth time. Eventually it's just lanterns all the way down, hung on nothing.
She laughs, because in Nancyworld you never get what you want. Like, she wanted Judah to outlive her. Does she want his blessing? She does, desperately, and she doesn't, just as desperately, and she doesn't want what it will cost him, and she doesn't want any finality, ever, on anything, in any way. But he does. "Great and careful work," he says tenderly, as though they are making love, and then -- surprisingly, beautifully -- gives her the Shehecheyanu:
Barukh atah Adonai, Eloheinu, melekh ha-olam
shehecheyanu v'kiyimanu v'higi'anu laz'man hazeh
The Shehecheyanu is recited at the beginning of some holidays, and it's the blessing you say the first time you eat fruit after Rosh Hashanah, but it's also what you say when you buy a new suit of clothing to wear, or at the birth of a son. It's the blessing you say when you see a friend, after a long separation. "I know the God part. What's the rest?"
Blessed are you who has kept us alive, sustained us, and enabled us to reach this season.
Nancy's touched, enough to look up finally with tears in her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, the apologies start to spill out. But it's too late. She's ashamed, as he makes it ever clearer what she's done to him: When Esteban dies, which is probably given his lifestyle, and Nancy has become a widow for the third time, she shouldn't expect Uncle Andy to show up and make pizza eggs, because he won't: He'll send a note.