Also that night, Lorna is throwing a welcome home party for Eugene, about whose awfulness she is still in denial, despite the fact that he is eating mashed potatoes out of the pot like a Neanderthal. Eugene’s tales of aerial heroism are interrupted by the sound of sirens, signaling that the escaped Death Eaters are close. He goes out to search for them, and though I am staunchly anti Death Eater, I really must write them a thank-you note for interrupting two Eugene scenes.
When the sirens go off, Betty is in the boarding house boiler room, stoking the furnace, contemplating it as a symbol for her own heart, a secret flame in a dark room that she is the only one brave enough to visit. As she stares deep into the fiery metaphor, another pair of eyes secretly watches her.
When Betty returns upstairs to continue her candlelit card game with Gladys, they are interrupted by Eugene, who barges into the boarding house with two bottles of booze he stole FROM HIS MOTHER.
Gladys: Excuse me but this is a healing space, and we try to keep an exclusively feminine energy so…
Betty: no boys in the secret clubhouse! Who gave you the password?
Betty: Ok I’m going to need a fuckton of whiskey.
When Eugene demands pickles, Betty seizes the opportunity to retreat to her basement lair to cry or vomit or maybe just throw something against the wall real hard. When she leaves, Eugenital herpes asks Kate to sing with him, but when she opens her mouth, her voice is gone. And everything about the moment is fragile and lovely, especially Charlotte Hegele’s face when she reaches for something (her innocence) that has always been a part of her, only to find that she has spent it, like her entire life savings blown on one trip to the candy store. And then Gladys swoops in and sings the duet her own damn self and every time I think I’m done having a crush on Jodi Balfour she goes and does something like this.