"Got some forms to fill out, tax mumbo jumbo. Yeah, state law requires us to submit social security numbers to the county clerk before we hand out any major prizes. Only exceptions are antiques and tropical fish." Silas's face falls, and falls; the butter turns to stone. If no SSN, then a tax ID, and a picture for the paper. As happy as Nancy is right now, which is gloriously brightly happy and free, that's how sad Silas is now. It's incredibly sad to see.
Stevie's bottle is still full, although Doug claims to have made plenty of bird sounds at him throughout the day. She yells for awhile, but can't really get up a head of steam on it. Shane thanks her sweetly, for a wonderful day. But Parenting Day is over, and certain members of the reconstituted team need special privileges. Andy needs to sit in the front seat now, with her, because he's hollowed-out looking and she stole the reins and it came to nothing. The great day Team Nancy & Shane had, well, it wasn't exactly at the expense of Team Randy & Mike, but it doesn't sit too well next to it. He's nearly passed out on the hood.
Andy's attempt at the silent treatment lasts about five seconds, but she gets him to admit he had at least a little fun. "Now you're back in charge!" she says, but it sounds like a joke. "Today was something I needed to do," she pleads. For Judah, for Esteban. One last ride and no more Spanish and just a little hope that Shane's going to be okay. As Andy maps out their next route and Doug plays with Nancy's tampons, John Ross passes by in a luxury mobile home, staring down at them for disappearing, for being strange, and then he's gone. Silas's heart breaks, Andy stares back. John Ross waves and then he's gone. Mobility and isolation aren't absolutes, they're matters of proportion. The Newmen keep on driving.