"previously on despercate housewives." "bree's husband felt rejected. i think it's strange to see my wife billed as "mrs. van de kamp." it's how i'm known." "?" "is there a mr. van de kamp?" "no, uh, mr. van de kamp is deceased." "would it have killed you to have mentioned me?" "it's because i went to jail, isn't it?" "lynette's husband was excited." "we're gonna start a garage band!" "i thought you were the one who said you wanted to spend more time with your family. guys need to blow off steam." "edie's new husband had a past..." "you've been here six weeks, and you don't seem any closer to coming to terms with your rage." "i've come to terms with it, and i like it just the way it is. ... which remained a mystery." "i just think it's odd that you're married to some guy." "you don't know anything about him." "well, she kept asking me all this stuff about your background." "and susan tried to move on." "well, i sort of started seeing someone. good for you." "every year, ms. elenora butters would ask her kindergarten class to draw a picture of their families which she would then display on "meet the teacher" night." "that's how ty richmond's parents saw his depiction of their fighting... and amy hines' parents saw her portrayal of their drinking." "and jason monte's parents saw his illustration of their hygiene." "you see, ms. butters felt it was important for parents to see themselves through their children's eyes." "she knew the experience... ed, he's got me vacuuming in my bra." "do i do that?" "could be very educational." "i know, i know." "did i not say 7:00?" "you missed their little show." "m.j. was tooth decay. well, crosstown traffic killed me." "and i told you to videotape it." "well, did you tell me to take off the lens cap?" "next time, be more specific." "mr. delfino, glad you made it." "uh, did you get to see m.j.'s artwork?" "no, not yet. can't wait." "oh." "oh, hey, look at that." "there we are, standing in front of the house." "look what he did with my hair." "i kind of like the bangs. yeah, look, he put a wrench in my pocket." "and see how big my muscles are?" "which is a good thing, 'cause there's a shark attacking the house." "hey, daddy." "hey, buddy." "your mommy and i were just looking at your wonderful painting." "you like it?" "i love it, especially how big and strong you made me look." "that's not you." "that's jackson." "see the paintbrush in his pocket?" "oh, who's jackson?" "he paints our house... until my mom makes him drink wine and have a sleepover." "uh... uh... because... mike and i are divorced, so that's why... it was supposed to be a picture of the family, so you should've put your daddy in it." "did." "oh, the..." "the bug with the little hat?" "that's you, 'cause you're always so far away." "oh, yeah, that's, um... now i see me." "yes... every year, ms. elenora butters would ask her class to draw a picture of their families, even though she knew the portraits... might not be that flattering." "==ÆÆÀÃÐÜÀÖÔ°ÇãÇé·îÏ×==- ±¾×ÖÄ"½ö¹©Ñ§Ï°½"Á÷£¬ÑÏ½ûÓÃÓÚÉÌÒµÓÃÍ¾" "=ÆÆÀÃÐÜ×ÖÄ"×é=- ·­Òë£º¸öÈËid Ð£¶Ô£º¸öÈËid Ê±¼äÖá£º¼Ó·¹µÄ²ËÖí  if you look closely into the faces of your friends," "you'll see it." "hey!" "hi!" "congratulations!" "hi!" "come on in!" "right behind their smiles, you will see a certain green-eyed monster, and then you'll understand how envious they are of your well-kept home... your delious recipes... and yourasteful ssessions." "here's my cookbook." "but you'll have to work hard to see the jealousy, because good friends always work hard to hide it." "look at you, right on the cover!" "these are advanced copies." "i wanted you to be the first to have them." "oh, and look, you signed it- "to lynette, the sweetest, most wonderful friend i've ever known."" "aw." ""to susan, the sweetest, most-"" "we don't have to read them out loud." "don't mind me, ladies." "i'm just grabbing a kiss on my way to the salt mines. mmm. oh. mmm. you have a good day." "thanks, babe. oh, did you show thethe ad?" "yeah. oh, i almost forgot. uh, bye." "isn't this nice?" "they're running it next month in "woman's day."" "you're gonna be in magazines, too?" "they've come up with this whole marketing plan- radio, print, book signings." "wow!" "isn't it fantastic?" "no, it's horrible!" "she's gonna become this famous author and have no time at all for us." "no, come on, gaby. you know that bree will never change. thank you, katherine." "i will never become stuck-up and full of myself." "i didn't say that." "i said you'd never change." "very funny." "i hardly think you have to worry about me becoming famous." "you have a marketing plan." "you wanna see my marketing plan?" ""milk, bread, vodka, condoms-"" "could i see that?" "i'd love to read it. why?" "well, back before i consecrated my life to mozzarella, marketing was sort of what i did." "oh, right!" "of course." "i would, uh, love to hear your thoughts." "so you're still gonna wanna hang out with us, even when you're totally fabulous, and we're still nobodies?" "girls, you are making way too much of this." "i am not a bit more fabulous than any one of you." "excuse me." "what is it, andrew?" "i hope you're free for lunch on the 12th, 'cause the chamber of commerce just named you businesswoman of the year." "oh, my god!" "that is so amazing!" "the, uh, dry cleaner just, um... found my sweater." "girls, catch up with you later!" "hi." "orson, i have amazing news." "the chamber of commerce just called. oh?" "what about?" "i wanna buy you lunch and tell you in person." "i will be at your office in two minutes." "uh, no!" "no, don't come to my office." "you know, i can't have lunch now. um, i'm in a meeting." "well, i'll wait in reception until it's over." "no, it'll take hours." "it's a very urgent, high-level stuff." "what kind of meeting is it?" "george, hey!" "turn that radio down!" "where are you?" "i told you, i'm in a meeting." "i gotta go." "i'll see you soon." "yes, you will." "mike!" "what's going on?" "daddy got me a bike." "yes, i see. and here, mommy thought we'd agreed to wait till your birthday." "crazy mommy." "can you teach me to ride it?" "no, not today. i gotta go install a water heater." "but, uh, you keep practicing, and the next afternoon i have free, we'll bust off those training wheels and go kick up some dirt. okay?" "okay." "all right." "oh, my god." "this is about m.j.'s drawing, isn't it?" "wh?" "he does not love jackson more than you." "he knows who his father is." "i know that." "can't a guy get his kid a bike without being psychoanalyzed?" "so you're totally fine with that drawing?" "well, i won't go sticking it on my fridge anytime soon, but yeah." "look, i'm glad you're dating a nice guy." "i'm glad he likes my kid, and my kid likes him." "here's a bike." "that's all it is." "hey, guys." "jackson, look at my new bike!" "pretty cool." "uh, that's a custom titanium frame." "make sure m.j.nows that." "so, wendy, i gotta know about the weather." "mommy, can bethany go home now?" "honey, she's only been here 20 minutes." "we invited her over to play, so go play." "but all she does is spin." "...somewhat across the reach of the state, knocking temperatures down i would say a few degrees... honey, we want bethany to be our friend, so if she wants to spin, just suck it up and spin." "why are you shoving that little weirdo down juanita's throat?" "that little weirdo is the key to you and i having more sex." "i know i should ask a few questions, but i'm in." "bethany's mom hosts a weekly playdate." "i'm trying to get juanita an invitation." "how does that lead to quality time with your boobs?" "carlos, the only time you and i have to ourselves is late at night, but by that time, we're too exhausted." "and now that we have celia in afternoon preschool, all we have to do is unload juanita, and then we can get back to doing the nasty." "this doesn't seem right." "i mean, dumping our kid off on some unsuspecting woman so that we can have sex?" "wake up!" "playdates were invented by mothers for this exact purpose." "shopping, sex, drinking in the afternoon- playdates make all these things possible." "i- i don't know." "i feel bad ?" "that she obviously doesn't like." "bethany's mom will take juanita once a week for two whole hours." "that is sex and a nap." "juanita!" "i don't hear you spinning!" "i don't understand. you said the job was going so well." "it was." "then three weeks ago, my parole officer left me a message at work." "that's when they found out i lied on my application when i said i didn't have a criminal record." "so you've been pretending to go to work for three weeks?" "i know you're angry." "honey... i'm not angry." "i'm hurt that you didn't feel like you could tell me." "i was embarrassed." "bree, when we married, i was the breadwinner." "now you-you have your company and you have your book." "i- i'm a felon who can't hold on to a job." "orson, we're partners." "we share everything." "any success i have is just as much yours as it is mine." "thank you, darling." "so... why did the chamr of commerce call?" "apparently, we've been named businesswoman of the year." "is that good enough?" "!" "yah!" "whoo!" "wow!" "you'd be killer in our band." "i mean, wouldn't he be killer, dave?" "uh, donald, why don't you let us talk it over, and we'll get back to you?" "no problem." "i have to get back to the office anyway." "quarterly tax time has got me swamped." "well, we'll-we'll definitely call you today." "thanks, gentlemen." "don't you think he crushed it?" "he was good..." "you know, technically." "he didn't really have heart." "what do you mean?" "when he played "voodoo child," it was like hendrix has risen." "hey, what about mike?" "i thought that's who we were gonna get." "well, i asked, but he said he's too busy." "too busy to live a little?" "not gonna fly." "call him. give him my number. i'll talk to him. okay, sure. but-but what about donald?" "i mean, 'cause if we don't get mike, i wanna make s- tom, donald's out, all right?" "have mike call me." "whoo!" "what a rehearsal." "dave and i were smokin'." "did you hear us?" "lynette?" "lynette." "i'm sorry. what?" "never mind." "what are you working on?" "what, is this bree's ad stuff?" "oh, god, no. her agency really whiffed... hmm?" "so i'm coming up with a whole new campaign." "i was looking through my old portfolio for inspiration." "mm-hmm." "oh!" "i remember this one." ""feet?" "meet your new best friends." it was a classic." "you know, it been years since i looked through this stuff." "i'd forgotten i was..." "kinda great." "you were awesome!" "i mean, come on." "how lucky is bree to have a neighbor that used to be a big advertising hotshot?" "well, maybe i'm the lucky one." "this could be a perfect way for me to stick my toe back in the business." "nothing big, maybe just pick up some freelance work." "but, honey, if you do that, where you gonna find the time for the family and the restaurant?" "well, gee, i don't know." "i gus the same place that you find time for your garage band." "lynette, i'm just saying that if-if you... okay, i dropped off celia at preschool, and juanita's at her playdate." "drop trou." "why don't you put on that sexy red teddy?" "can i ask why?" "i mean, you can't see it." "yeah, but i can feel it, and i love the sensation of sliding silk off your body." "oh." "what's it like, carlos?" "what?" "sex as a blind man." "i mean, you used to be so visual." "is it still as good?" "oh, it's better." "i mean, having to rely on your senses of touch and taste and smell... it's actually way more intense." "really?" "you're so lucky." "what, you want blind sex?" "i think i can arrange that." "hey there." "looks like somebody's job interview went well." "nope." "they turned me down flat." "aw. but as i was driving home, it suddenly hit me." "i may be persona non grata at every company in this town, but there's at least one employer i know who would love to hire me." "oh. who?" "you." "you wanna work here?" "why not?" "i'm great with food." "i understand business." "i can't beat the commute." "well, that's certainly an intriguing notion." "but wouldn't it be awkward having me as your boss?" "absolutely." "but as you said in the park, we share everything." "so i would be more of a... partner." "partners?" "oh." "well - bree, would you give me a hand with this arrangement?" "just give me a sec." "i think the lilies need their own vase." "if you hire him, i will cut you with these scissors!" "i don't think we need to do that." "i think they're crowding the irises out." "just like he's trying to crowd me out." "you already have a partner, remember?" "oh, well, i think the irises and the lilies could work together. nope." "one of them has to go." "if i may offer an opinion- not a good time, orson." "tell him now, or i will walk." "orson, you really don't wanna work with me." "i mean, you only see me at home." "but at work, when the pressure's on, i can be a bit of a handful." "kathine's seen how i get. oh, yes. bitchy, tyrannical, shrill- he gets it, dear." "honey, you're my partner in life." "but if we want to keep it that way, we shouldn't mix marriage and business." "but no one else will hire me well, you've only been looking for a few weeks." "i mean, give it another..." "say, month or two, and you still haven't found anything, then we'll revisit the idea." "okay?" "okay." "it was just a thought." "oh oh, so what'd you think?" "oh, my god, you were right." "blind sex is incredible." "ahh, give me ten more minutes and an energy bar, and we can go one more time." "no, i think we're done." "honey!" "what are you doing home?" "i thought you were at bethany's." "i got a tummyache." "her mom brought me back." "oh." "well, how long have you been standing there?" "i don't know." "what were you two doing?" "um, we were, uh... we were wrestling." "wrestling." "did daddy hurt you?" "you were making loud noises." "no!" "no, that wasn't real." "sometimes i fake it when i wrestle with daddy." "please don't wrestle th mommy." "you're too big." "you could hurt her." "yeah, carlos, stop that." "okay, go to your room, and i'm gonna bring you something for your tummy." "i think she bought it." "you mean the story of how daddy beats up mommy?" "relax. i told her i was fine. look, i could hear the worry in her voice." "why don't we just tell her the truth?" "what, that sometimes mommy rides daddy like a mechanical bull to get jewelry?" "she's 5. she's too young to understand either half of that. it's the facts of life." "she's gonna learn 'em eventually, and it's the most natural thing in the world." "carlos, if she was standing there any longer than five minutes, there was nothing natural about what she saw." "by the way, thank you for that." "hello?" "hey, it's me. listen, i've got some free time, so i thought i'd come over and teach m.j. how to ride his new bike. great. he's so excited to learn." "are you sure he's ready to go without training wheels?" "oh, he'll probably have to take a few spills, but luckily, he'll have his old man there to pick him up." "yeah. he's been asking when you're coming." "i can't wait to tell him." "i know he'll be just... all right!" "aah!" "what's the matter?" "spider. big one. gotta go!" "mommy, look, no traing wheels." "i know!" "you did great!" "jackson, can i see you a sec?" "that was amazing!" "he learned so fast." "yeah. you know what i learned?" "mike is on his way over here to teach his son how to ride the bike he bought- something he was looking forward to until you ruined it." "w - why didn't you tell me that?" "i didn't know i had to tell you not to steal a father's precious moment." "m.j.- he just kept asking me. he-he made me do it. you could've walked away." "no, i couldn't!" "he said, "pwease!"" "damn it." "as you can see, the graphic works just as well on a free-standing display unit. neat, huh?" "goodness, lynette." "when you offered to share your thoughts on my campaign, i wasn't expecting anything quite so... elaborate." "well, who knew your marketing guys were such lame-os?" "what they came up with is so... tepid." "um, i think "understated" was what they were going for." "well, they overshot and wound up in "bland,"" "right on the border of "sucky."" "you need to grab your audience, just grab 'em." "i've gone for jazzier colors, bolder fonts." "oh, i have really played up the whole nostalgia angle." ""let mrs. van de kamp turn your oven into a time machine."" "i see women really responding to that." "do you?" "because i see children crawling into ovens, hoping to see dinosaurs." "oh." "okay. well... i've got a whole bunch of alternatives." "oh, lynette, i appreciate everything you've done." "but i've actually approved the old campaign, and i can't just tell them i've changed my mind." "you don't have to." "i'll be the bad guy." "just tell 'em you've hired me, and i'll go in there, six-guns ablazing." "so... do we have a deal?" "just give me the word." "no." "no?" "sorry, but i prefer their campaign." "but mine is better." "well, you're... entitled to think so, but i don't." "look, bree... i think i know a little more about marketing than you do." "when i was in it, i owned this town." "i had every big account." "hell, i was even named businesswoman of the year." "oh. well, i'm familiar with that award." "in fact, i'm this year's recipient." "really?" "yes." "there's a luncheon on the 12th." "i do hope you can make it. oh." "mwah!" "by the way, you're right about those colors." "very... jazzy." "come on, m.j. your daddy's waiting." "mommy, i don't wanna fall." "oh, honey." "you know how you like to push the button when we go on the elevator, and if somebody else pushes it first, it makes you sad?" "but i don't wanna fall." "just listen. daddy really wanted to be the one to teach you to ride your bike, and if you can already do it, it's gonna make him sad." "so just let daddy push the button. understand?" "oh, man." "wow, he's really picking it up fast." "yeah. i think it's just beginner's luck. uh-huh." "are you sure he hasn't been practicing?" "no. he was absolutely waiting for you." "you know, i think i'm gonna go check his helmet." "what are you doing?" "we talked about this." "you're supposed to be new at it." "i don't want to fall. i'm scared." "oh!" "of what?" "you're 3 inches off the ground." "you're completely padded." "so just do what i say- wobble, wobble." ""daddy, look at me!" crash." "boy... he was just telling me how glad he is to have his dad here. really?" "'cause i almost feel like he doesn't even need me. oh, that's just silly." "oh!" "whoops-a-daisy!" "oh, it's a good thing your dad's here to teach you how to do it right. oh, looking good, buddy, but remember, when you stop, you gotta put your foot down first." "okay?" "ow!" "oh, what, does that hurt right there, buddy?" "oh, he's fine." "no, mommy. it hurts." "this is all my fault." "oh, will you stop?" "the doctor said it was just a sprain." "i know, but still, i shouldn't have pushed it." "you know, why look for blame?" "kids fall." "if you have to find fault, blame the pavement, not yourself... or me." "mommy!" "he should have his pitching arm back in no time." "oh, thank you. but i did wanna ask-m.j. said that he fell on purpose, something about you telling him to "let daddy push the elevator button"?" "you told him to fall?" "remember, it's the pavement you're mad at." "what the hell, susan?" "why would you do something like that?" "jason taught him to ride the bike." "jackson." "who's jackson?" "he does sleepovers with mommy." "they drink lots of wine." "hey, doc. uh, don't you hand out lollipops to brave little boys?" "i'm sorry. m.j. was excited about the bike, so jackson took off the training wheels and taught him." "he didn't know." "he didn't know i'd wanna be the one to teach my own kid how to ride a bike?" "okay, you know what?" "this is not jackson's fault." "you can't give a 5-year-old a bike and expect him to wait to ride it until you have time." "you know, this is what it means to be divorced." "it means that sometimes you won't be there." "i know." "it's... just harder than i thought it would be." "well, it's hard for me, too." "i miss things when he's with you." "and i... am trying to come to terms with my guilt, because... i have to." "so do you." "there's nothing else you can do." "has mike called?" "hi, honey. you're home." "sorry, hon." "hi." "so did he call?" "no." "hey, listen to this." "mrs. hudson's putting her house up for sale." "i think we should buy it." "why?" "as an investment." "i- i mean, it's fantastic." "my friend mary alice blew her brains out in this house, and all i'd have to do is let that slip, and we'd get it for a song." "yeah. i don't think so." "well, why not?" "we'll rent it out." "we could make some serious money." "last thing i wanna be is a landlord, get a phone call every time a toilet overflows." "that's why we hire a management company - damn it, edie, i said no!" "why are you yelling at me?" "i don't know." "i'm sorry. i just got a lot on my mind." "i'm sorry." "hi, bethany." "i'm here to pick up juanita." "is she around?" "boys have sperm." "excuse me?" "we need to talk." "so apparently, after we had our little chat with juanita, she went straight to bethany and passed on the facts of life in excruciating detail." "well, did you explain to peggy why we had the little chat?" "she didn't wanna hear it, not with bethany running around the house, screaming "intercourse!" at the top of her lungs." "so we're out of the playdate?" "oh, yeah. way out." "well, i guess it's back to the old schedule of ten minutes of grope 'n snore at midnight." "i'm not going back, carlos." "i can't." "if juanita doesn't get her playdate, you're not getting yours. fine. i will fix it. i just don't know why peggy's making such a big deal out of this." "sperm!" "juanita!" "stop talking to your sister!" "orson, what are you doing in the guest bedroom?" "oh, i couldn't sleep." "you were snoring too loudly." "me?" "snoring?" "mm, like a donkey with a head cold." "honey, i don't snore." "oh, you can't always hear yourself." "but i hear you... loud and clear." "oh, for heaven sakes, come back to bed." "no." "i'm good here." "?" "look, hate to bother you, but i got a busted pipe outside the house." "probably some kids playing a prank. no problem." "i'm across town finishing up on another job." "so depending on traffic, give me... say an hour?" "oh, thanks. i really appreciate it." "so when juanita thought that i might be hurting her mother, we decided it was best that she knew the truth." "it just seemed like the right thing to do at the time." "see, honey?" "i- i knew there had to be a rational explanation." "well... i guess under the circumstances, you didn't have y other choice." "so... do you think there's any chance juanita could rejoin your playdate?" "we've talked to her." "she will never discuss sex ever again." "not if she wants to see her favorite dolly alive." "gaby, we don't need to let them know all of our parenting secrets." "i... think that'd be okay." "i probably overreacted." "we just wanna keep bethany's innocence as long as we can." "oh, we totally agree." "kids are forced to grow up way too fast these days. no kidding." "i want my girls to believe in santa claus as long as possible." "they're gonna find out soon enough that it's all a lie." "what?" "there's no santa claus?" "!" "so... next playdate's monday at 1:00?" "wow, whoever did this really went to town." "yeah, i know." "damn kids." "by the way, did you put any more thought into joining the band?" "oh, man. i'm sorry. i've been meaning to get back to you." "i appreciate the offer, but i'm really stretched thin these days." "oh, come on. every man's got time for a little music." "believe me, i'd love to play with you guys, but, uh, i live 30 minutes away-an hour in traffic." "whatever time i've got left's for my son. yeah, i hear ya." "hey, you ever look into living a little closer by?" "with the rent prices in this neighborhood?" "i might play guitar like a rock star, but i don't earn like one." "yeah. sorry." "i wasn't thinking." "oh, it's all right." "uh, appreciate you trying to help." "believe me, i wish i could do more." "i've never seen bree so happy. she's glowing." "she won't be glowing when that agency sinks her book. lynette... i'm telling you, the only thing staler than that ad campaign is this dinner roll. yeah, and the water was as flat as the ad campaign." "your martini was as dry as the ad campaign. let it go." "hi, everybody!" "you having a good time?" "hi!" "hey, beautiful!" "um,this is- stu!" "lynette scavo. i thought that might be you. hey!" "hey." "everyone, this is my old assistant, stu, um... durber." "durber." "hey!" "well, this was one great guy." "he would schlep all the way across town just to get me my chinese food." "so... what are you up to?" "actually, stu's company is doing all my advertising." "your company?" "you have a company?" "three years now." "huh." "how about you?" "are you still at, uh, parcher  murphy?" "no, i... also went into business for myself." "her place makes the best pizza in town." "you own a pizzeria?" "well, it's really my husband's." "and i'm still doing some freelance stuff." "well, that's great. you know, we're always working late. mm-hmm. oh." "give me your card. we'll order from you some night. oh." "you know, of course, we're across town, so it may be a bit of a schlep. oh!" "it w great catching up, lynette. yeah." "bree, let me introduce you to some people. yeah, mm. great." "there's my beautiful wife." "what are you up to?" "why?" "looking for a reason to scream at me?" "you're right." "i was awful the other day." "how about i make it up to you by buying you mrs. hudson's house?" "seriously?" "well, i thought about it, and i agree." "it's a good investment opportunity." "oh!" "thank you!" "mm-hmm, mm-hmm." "thank you. thank you." "and i promise that we'll rent that place out for top dollar." "oh, i'm not worried about that." "but first..." "i want to do someone a favor." "hi." "where are you?" "it's after 2:00." "i'm getting ready for my job interview." "oh, that's not until 4:00." "i'm reading the company's annual reports." "i want to be prepared." "oh, honey." "everybody's asking about you." "i want you to be here." "it's my big day." "well... enjoy it." "you've earned it." "ooh!" "you know what this tastes like?" "more." "it would seem somebody's taking their designated driver position... a little lightly." "stu?" "stu is doing bree's ad campaign?" "i rode in his hatchback once." "it smelled like mu shu." "i gotta warn her." "oh, wait!" "no, honey." "why don't you wait till after the ceremony?" "yeah, just until you can blink both eyes at the same time." "guys, i am just gonna offer her a little advice. geesh." "oh!" "whoop. still waiting." "the great thing about the internet is that with a minimal investment, you actually can reach all your specific target audience - coupons." "coupons?" "do a cross-promotion with some of the major food companies." "knock off 20% on some of the items featured in your recipes, then they do the same towards the purchase of your cookbook." "yeah, our research shows, you know, people aren't so hot on gimmicks - zip it, stewie." "would you excuse us, please?" "lynette, you're drunk." "yeah, that's immaterial." "what do you think of the coupons?" "lynette, i am really not able to deal with that right now." "oh. i know." "you've got your book and-and your big fancy award, and i'm just a housewife." "i never said that." "you know, when i had a high-powered career, and you were just a housewife, i never looked down on you." "if you could all please take your seats, it's time to present our award." "you need to leave now." "fine. and don't worry." "even though i'd like to, i'm not gonna make some big, ugly scene." "hi." "hey. i, um, i bought m.j. so stilts, thought i'd teach him how to use 'em." "har har. uh, actually, he's at juanita's watching a dvd." "do you want me to call him?" "no. no, it's cool. i just wanted to tell him about my new place." "you're moving again?" "how far are you gonna be away now?" "the hudson house?" "yeah, she sold it." "and edie told me the new owner wants to rent it, so now i'll have a fighting chance of being around when m.j. hits his milestones." "is this okay with you?" "yeah. it's great." "uh, we'll be like... one big, happy, divorced family." "you sure?" "it's a little weird." "i- i but, you know, m.j. will be thrilled, and... yeah, i'm fine with it." "good." "so, um... i'll see you around, neighbor." "i still think it's strange you won't let me tell mike that we're the new owners." "well, the man's got a lot of pride." "i want him to feel like i'm his neighbor, not his landlord." "landlord?" "hell, with the rent we're charging him, you're his fairy godmother." "all right, consider it an investment in good karma. screw karma." "i finally do something nice in this neighbhood, and i can't even brag about it?" "the man who is silent in his good deeds is the man who reaps the greatest reward." "hey." "hi." "so... give me some guidance." "do i grovel, send flowers, or... just move?" "i'm not angry with you." "i'm just sorry that you felt so- drunk?" "jealous?" "you have nothing to be jealous of." "don't give me that." "you are having the kind of success i only dreamed of back in my ad days." "but that doesn't mean i look down on you." "no. but watching you, i look down on me." "when i held your book in my hands, i felt so jealous my stomach hurt." "and i thought, if i could just hitch a ride, have a piece of it, i wouldn't feel so bad about your success." "for god sakes, lynette, stop calling me a success." "there's nothing successful about me." "my friends think i'm gonna drop them, my partner resents me, and my husband... has moved into the guest bedroom." "everything i gain comes at some horrible price, and i'm starting to wonder if any of it's even worth it." "it is." "you're at the start of an incredible journey, and i am going to be there every step of the way, cheering you on, telling anyone who will listen that the bree van de kamp is my friend." "thanks." "and the rest of the stuff... you'll find a wayto fix it." "just know that all your friends are very proud of you." "bitterly jealous, but proud." "if you look closely into the faces of those around you, you will catch a glimpse of a certain green-eyed monster." "and then you'll see they envy your career... your love life... the time you spend with their child... how do you deal with such jealousy?" "there are many ways." "but the best... is to simply share what you have." "thank you." "promise me you'll never leave our bed again." "i promise... partner."