In the silly and quick interlude that pops up about halfway through the show, Heather arrives home after a workout and gives Terry a complex about having man boobs. He takes the charge seriously enough that he feels himself up at the kitchen table and then takes a selfie of his chest before relaxing with the knowledge that he in fact does not have man boobs, though he’s a plastic surgeon and he can lob those things off himself during a coffee break if necessary.
Back in the hotel on the beach and away from Terry’s heaving bosom, Hayley is having almost no reaction to being able to pamper herself and get ready in that amazing room and she barely mumbles a word upon hearing that Meghan and her mother have brought in a professional photographer to take pictures. Seriously, Hayley’s only reaction is a monosyllabic noise that’s somnambulant in quality, and I don’t know who it was that told a large segment of our society that speaking with no change in tone whatsoever is sexy or mysterious, but I’d reconsider the merits of capital punishment if that person was captured and then brought to justice. The reason Meghan has booked the photographer in the first place is because she realizes this may be the last formal that LeAnn will be there for and so she’s trying to make it special for Hayley and create a way she’ll have lasting memories and it’s this kind of thoughtful and compassionate gesture that makes me overlook the hashtag thing, though I do think if Meghan tries to use “hashtag” in a sentence ever again, someone should tie her down, force-feed her a waffle, or make her spend an entire day with Shannon, a fate that could cause Meghan to become mute for life. The day at the beach is not all bad, though. We actually see, for the first time all season, Jim wrap his arms around his wife. Sure, he tells her that both she and Mother Nature f*cked up the sunset while he’s sort of hugging her, but his arms were making actual contact with her skin so at least there’s that.
We leave the misery near the ocean and head to Vicki’s house as she arrives back home after a funeral I’d like to commend her for not allowing Bravo to film, though I did shudder when a still photograph of the casket appeared onscreen. Vicki is in the throes of unflinching grief when Shannon calls to reach out and tell her that she’s there if Vicki needs her and it’s very clear that Shannon is not a bad person – unless she’s drunk or she saw a pencil that reminded her that her husband had an affair or someone who is only thirty enters her eyeline.
Soon after the phone call, Shannon goes over to see Vicki and brings with her a bag filled to the brim with homeopathic remedies for depression. Obviously all of these drops and ointments and vitamins have brought nothing but total calm into Shannon’s life, and I feel the need here to toss out a blanket warning that I’m pretty sure nobody should ever take whatever it is Shannon is taking, unless you’re trying to achieve a severe form of weight loss or increase your ability to become hysterical seemingly out of nowhere.
Hoping to find just a small piece of peace, Vicki tells Shannon that she’s considering a visit to “a median,” but she’s not sure if God will frown upon her talking to a spirit through another channel. Lack of my own religious upbringing aside, I’m willing to believe that if God has already forgiven her for being on The Real Housewives since the day the franchise was born, he will overlook her visiting a psychic, though I expect she’ll eventually be stuck in purgatory for about a week as a punishment for all the whoo-hooing she has thrust upon an unsuspecting world.
Speaking of God, Tamra would like to thank him for allowing her granddaughter to be born without a beard and for the fact that Ryan wants to move back to Orange County. And that reminds me: doesn’t Tamra pledge her total loyalty to Jesus sometime soon? Didn’t we see a baptism in the coming attractions for this season in the way we used to see blonde women clawing one another’s eyes out over tapas and champagne? Could it be that the Housewives have finally grown up? Should we all clasp hands and thank a deity for making this happen? Maybe next week during the séance with the median we can simultaneously show our appreciation.
And as a last little note to an episode that centered squarely on family dynamics, I found it almost impossible to gaze at the screen and not consider which household I’d choose to spend some time in if I had to pick one. My answer came to me quickly. I’d totally stay at Heather’s house as long as her children were locked in the basement while I’m there. And if I had to choose a second house to visit, I’d probably just create a makeshift bed out of a pile of leaves in a gutter that’s near Shannon’s house, but I wouldn’t step foot in that place for a million dollars or a squeeze of bee pollen because I used to be thirty and I simply want to avoid Shannon’s justifiable wrath.
Nell Kalter teaches Film and Media at a school in New York. She is the author of the books THAT YEAR and STUDENT, both available on amazon. Check out her website at nellkalter.com. Her twitter is @nell_kalter.
I too was surprised and grateful Vicki didn’t film her mother’s funeral. No snark intended.