Quick disclaimer: I haven't slept in about sixty hours. My sweet puppy got spayed yesterday morning because one experience of caring for a 6.4-pound Maltipoo in heat was more than enough for me to deal with in an entire lifetime. Those were some rough days, some peculiar days. I strapped extra-small diapers to the dog for six weeks straight. I learned how to pop her tail through the hole in the back so she would be more comfortable. I apologized every time I did it and told her how exciting it was that she was becoming a woman. Her response was to remove the diaper herself in the middle of the night and then place it on my pillow. Tallulah? She's sweet – but she's also as crafty as they come. Anyway, I was anxious about such a tiny thing having surgery so I was up all night on Monday and that waking misery continued straight through Tuesday night as my dog and her plastic-coned head struggled to get comfy without any success. This morning, I forgot to put a mug under my Keurig and coffee spilled freely across the countertop. Yesterday afternoon, I tripped up my steps. What I'm trying to say is that since walking up my own staircase feels incredibly complicated right now, there's also a chance that this recap might be all over the place. Should I, however, begin a paragraph by talking about how the Countess is just terribly misunderstood, please send help.
Where last we left our Housewives, Jules was realizing once again that her husband is terrible, Dorinda was stirring some shit to earn a better spot on the Reunion couch, Ramona was sexually harassing one of the yacht’s crew members, Carole was counting backwards from seven trillion just so she could make it through the party, Luann was proclaiming to the moon and the stars that nothing could ruin her night, and Sonja was finally admitting to herself that it felt all kinds of yucky to watch her friend get engaged to a man with whom she too was once quite close. Oh, and Bethenny? She was lounging on the beach while holding text messages that are apparently so damning, Luann might end up hurling herself off that boat and swimming to shore while ruing the day she ever met Tom – but anyone who thinks Luann will actually admit her life is not perfect or that she’d believe some woman over her possibly-wealthy fiancé has not been paying attention to who Luann has clearly shown us she is over the last several seasons.
In any case, the party begins relatively smoothly. The guests arrive and – thank goodness – there are some Palm Beach socialites there because otherwise the party would be meaningless. But perhaps the reason why the party is going so well upstairs is because the rest of the Housewives are still downstairs. Now that everyone has commented over and over again about how weird it must feel for her to see Tom, Sonja now feels appropriately weirded out. It seems that maybe she might have liked this guy more than she ever admitted – maybe even to herself – but Sonja is still Sonja; she knows how to play it cool in public. She and Tom both do, and when Sonja says that, it might have shown us more about who she is than anything ever has before. There was a sadness there – a resignation – that Sonja’s finally realized that being known as the girl who always keeps it casual and light might also mean that she could end up alone in the end.
Finally working up her nerve, Sonja and the others join Luann, her soul mate, and an odd collection of revelers upstairs. They haven’t missed much. All that’s happened so far is that Luann has thrust her ring into her guests’ faces while letting out intermittent throaty screams. Into this awesomeness walks Ramona. She goes right over to the happy couple and Tom does his very best to completely ignore her until he finally has no choice. As for Sonja, she buries her nerves by hiking up both her mojo and her breasts and then she walks over to the man she used to straddle, a man who is now cold and slightly dismissive of her. It’s probably that chilliness that causes her to go sit on a couch with a man who looks like an older version of Orville Redenbacher. Who is this guy? Does it matter? He likes Sonja’s dress and the way she looks in the dress and, honestly, the woman just needs to feel good about herself for a little while.
Across the room, Carole has been watching the proceedings with the same focus with which I watch Mr. Robot. (For those of you not watching that show, get on it! No series uses music better, I swear.) She’s anxious to watch Tom interact with all the women he’s either dated or slept with while his fiancé glares from a distance, but there’s not all that much to see. Tom refutes how many dates he had with Ramona, refuses to look Sonja in the eye, and then tells Ramona she smells like grapefruit. Okay, a few things to discuss here:
1. Does Ramona wear Happy? Because every now and again, I love me some Happy and it just won’t smell the same to me anymore if I find out it’s Ramona Singer’s signature fucking scent.
2. I didn’t read that comment as flirty in the slightest even though both Carole and Ramona were stunned by it. Did we miss part of the conversation? Might Tom have said, “Your new nipples smell like grapefruit?” If not, I really don’t see anything particularly interesting about any of it.
Grapefruits just don’t matter, though. No, the only thing that really matters here is that, at some point, Ramona starts dancing. She flails about like she chomped on some shrooms downstairs before changing it up by humping the air and whichever person happens to be standing in front of her. By the way, I’m pretty sure there was no music playing.
Oh! There is one other thing that matters: Luann is a fucking asshole. We’ve known Luann is all about herself for a very long time now, but even that awareness doesn’t soften the blow of watching this piece of shit chortle, “I’m the one he’s marrying!” directly into Sonja’s face. Not for one nanosecond will Luann validate that her former roommate feels uncomfortable or sad or even slightly conflicted. Nobody matters besides Luann and, for the first time in maybe ever, I’m actually looking forward to the ninety-part Reunion so we can watch as Luann reviews these clips and then shrugs with exaggeration because she can’t understand why nobody is willing to be happy for her. This woman sucks.
Jules’ husband also sucks. I’m not sure, actually, how one itty-bitty little man can have so much suckage raging through his squat body, but the guy is apparently a feat of evolution because he manages to pull it off. While Jules in in Florida, he’s supposed to be with the kids since, you know, he’s their fucking father and all. Instead, he drops the weepy kids off at his parents’ house and never actually tells his wife where he is and she’s a good enough mother that she doesn’t focus on his current suspicious whereabouts and instead just tells her bullshit husband to go and see his children.
Dorinda’s in a better mood, or at least she will be if she can first wake everyone up and then create an atmosphere of distrust while they’re all still stuck on a boat. She accomplishes both things. She starts by waking Carole, who then films the entire scene with a blanket hiked up to cover her sleep-required nakedness. And what a scene it is! Seems Dorinda is trying her mightiest to figure out the timeline of who Tom was feeling up when and Carole first begins to explain, but then Ramona comes in and gives precise details of where and when she spent time with Tom – and these are specific details that include the way he made a heart with their initials in it just like my first boyfriend in sleepaway camp once did. Come to think about, that guy’s name was Tom, too… Anyway, Dorinda looks like she’s trying to solve some math equation that I would have just gone ahead and copied from a friend. None of it adds up to her – and that’s when she crosses a line that she just doesn’t need to cross. Heading upstairs for breakfast, Dorinda drops the news to Luann that everyone, especially Ramona, is still talking about Tom. She says nothing about how she was the one asking the questions, just that Ramona keeps talking about how she dated him for longer than he’ll admit and Luann loses it completely. Huskier-voiced than ever and clad in some ridiculous caftan she wears with an even more ridiculous necklace, Luann is ready to put a stop to the ungodly bullshit of anyone feeling like it’s okay to discuss Tom’s B.L. (Before Lu) days. Looking very much like a hungover linebacker, Luann storms downstairs to confront Ramona who, for once, is actually not in the wrong here.
What’s interesting is that it’s not Ramona obsessing over Tom; it’s Sonja. Maybe it was all the “How do you feel?” comments she was inundated with the night before or perhaps the moroseness swept over her after watching Luann gloating so revoltingly, but Sonja’s feeling down. Ramona is hugging her when Luann bursts in and tells Ramona to shut her fucking mouth about her soulmate or she will be thrown off of the boat immediately. Ramona’s response is to bring out the press clippings she seemingly travels with everywhere and to rail against Luann for saying a single word to the press about her and the entire thing is kind of gross to watch because these two women simply don’t like each other and they have never trusted each other and Luann will never admit that she did anything wrong and Sonja literally pulls the blankets up to her mouth and doesn’t say a word.
Back in the sunshine, Ramona finds out it was Dorinda who started the madness, but Dorinda just sort of giggles and gets off easy. At some point, Dorinda does say that she’s pleased the spotlight of awfulness has moved off her repulsive little creature of a boyfriend and onto Luann’s man. Maybe she’s just trying a little premeditated misdirection so nobody can comment on John’s sweating problem or how much he allegedly enjoys his cocaine? It’s hard to figure out her motivation here – I’m just sticking with the belief that she was told she’d get a raise if she makes Luann cry. What I do love is how Ramona just brushes Dorinda’s machinations off and instead proclaims her need for eggs. What I might love even more is how Dorinda succinctly sums up what was the basis of Sonja and Tom’s relationship: “They were making love late at night after drinking heavily.” Cold – but probably true.
Luann and Ramona eventually sort of apologize to one another, but everyone knows this peace is nothing but tentative. But now that the brawl is over for the moment, it’s time to check in with Bethenny. First, I’m not sure that Bethenny should be making any “skinny” comments to Jules after we all got a look at her in that bikini, but I suppose the real issue here has nothing to do with the staggering emaciation of Housewives and instead has to do with Bethenny having evidence on her phone of Tom cheating on Luann two nights ago. Should she tell Luann? Should she not tell Luann? And, most importantly, will Bethenny ever admit that her back and forth decision about whether or not to give up this information is nothing but fucking moot since she’s discussing all of it on camera anyway?
Where Bethenny got the text messages is information she refuses to reveal, much like Donald Trump refuses to release his taxes, but she knows she’s holding onto a bomb and she’s trying to figure out how to tell Luann. She gets her chance pretty quickly when Luann pops into her room once they’re all in Miami, but Bethenny can’t quite do it. Instead, she asks Luann if she’s happy and if the relationship is monogamous and if she’s sure about a guy she’s had for less time than I’ve had a carton of almond milk in my refrigerator. It’s an odd little scene. Luann is giggling and waving her ring around and all but twirling in joy while Bethenny never once cracks a smile. Luann can tell something’s up, but Bethenny just can’t bring herself to say anything more, at least until Luann leaves and Bethenny’s joined by Carole and Ramona. That’s when she gives it up: Tom was at the Regency (the same place he used to take Ramona) and he was kissing some woman and the two had totally been “partying” and Bethenny has irrefutable evidence of all of it and now she has to tell Luann.
“I don’t want to know one-third of the things I know,” Bethenny says – and I almost believe her. Still, she can’t keep this information to herself, so she orders Ramona to bring Luann to her immediately.
“Are you sure?” asks Carole. “She was really happy,” and that’s about when Bethenny announces she has an actual photo of Tom and the woman – who is, of course, a Playboy Playmate – making out.
We get a “To Be Continued” cliffhanger here, but there’s really not much for us to wait on with bated breath. Luann is still going to marry the man who cavorted with a Playmate A.L. (After Lu) and she will continue to believe that everyone in this and any other hemisphere is just purple with envy about how great her life is because not everyone can find their soulmate and then celebrate with Palm Beach socialites.
Not everyone can be as blissfully happy as she pretends she is every single day.
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.com in paperback and for your Kindle.