ATWT Recaps Week of July 4, 2005
Friday, July 8, 2005
Lucinda has Stage Three cancer, and Sierra and Lily wanted to discuss her treatment options, particularly a mastectomy, which Lucinda was resisting in favor of a lumpectomy. As a distraction, she took the opportunity to criticize Lily’s love life, and admonished her hovering daughters for thinking they know what’s best for her. “I have been your age, Lily. But you’ve never been mine,” she hissed.
Over a game of pool at Yo’s, Dusty made it clear that he has a good time with Meg, but urged her to take the job in Alaska anyway, arguing that won’t find what she’s looking for in Oakdale. She was interrupted by a call from Lucinda, who invited herself over. While Dusty went outside to take a call, Meg soothed Lucinda with her amazing understanding. She then suggested that La Walsh hire her as a live-in nurse. “Are you doing this for me, my daughters or the guy on the phone outside?” grinned Lucinda, picking up her pool cue.
At Cal’s house, Luke was fondling a bottle of vodka when Keith came home. Luke slipped the bottle into his bag and covered that he had to pick up some stuff. Keith tried to be friendly and invited him to a Cubs game, but Luke was having none of it and left to meet up with some bored buddies, one of whom asked, “Could this town be any lamer?” “Doubtful,” said Luke, before producing his pilfered booze. Keith did a better job with Lily later, comforting her about her mother, though she admitted that she’s going to wait to finalize her divorce. He was incredibly patient and understanding.
Speaking of patient and understanding, Gwen and Will had a heart-to-heart on the roof about her decision to give the baby up for adoption. He not surprisingly guessed that it might have something to do with his family and joked about being crazy, but she called his family “special” and insisted he wasn’t. “Don’t be so sure,” he grimaced. “You’re the sanest guy…” she said. “… in my family…” he interrupted with an eye roll. “That I know,” she finished. “Well you don’t get out much,” he said. “That’s not true. I’m a party slut, didn’t you know?” she said. Especially cool was how she described Rosanna and Craig to him, without using their names, and told him about how she lied that she didn’t know the father’s name. “It’s not right that people think that about you,” he said sweetly before again promising to be there for her, as we sighed and sighed. The talk made her more determined than ever, if also more sad, about the adoption. But when they stood up, she got a cramp. Something’s very wrong.
Jen clutched her stomach and cried as she blamed herself for her mistakes before begging him to come home with her. Mike admitted that he never stopped loving Katie but that he shouldn’t have let anything happen with her until he straightened things out with his wife. His incredibly painful honesty understandably made Jen a little shaky, and she refused Mike’s offer to take her to the doctor and took her leave. On the way out, Katie (somewhat unwisely) stopped her. “This truly was not planned,” she insisted. “Do you honestly think that makes it any less despicable?” asked Jen, before sobbing and clutching her way down the hallway. On her way home in the car, she called Dusty to say she couldn’t make a meeting tomorrow; her distress was clear. When it became too hard to talk through the tears, he urged her to pull over. She agreed to stop at her mother’s cabin, but the phone was cut off before he found out where it is. Back in Chicago, Katie and Mike felt really bad about sending a pregnant, shaking, emotionally devastated woman off into the night, even if they are — as the inevitable “Matie” — destined for each other. “All I know right now is that we belong together,” is how he put it. Katie told him he can still change his mind; he’s not obligated to stay with her. “I do not want to lose you again,” Mike assured her. Meanwhile, Jen made it to the cabin, but decided to change a light bulb. You know what happens next, but in case you didn’t see it coming, her fall from the stool was done in slow-motion. She writhed on the ground and clutched her stomach some more. Uh-oh.
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