Desperate Housewives (2004–2012): Season 1, Episode 14 - Love Is in the Air - full transcript

Previously on Desperate Housewives...

If someone hurt her,
I want them dead.

Sometimes...

I'm out of money.
In a few weeks I'll be screwed.

- Think about looking for a job.
- Ha!

The answers...

Tell me what he said
and I can fix it.

- I can't.
...to life's biggest questions...

I had the nightmare again.

And the name "Angela"?

- That's my real name.
...are buried...



She's not been dead a month
and it's like she never existed.

...under bigger lies.

- Zach was telling Julie about Dana.
- He didn't mean to kill Dana.

Most mothers will tell you
their children are a gift from God.

Most mothers will also tell you
the gifts their children give them

are less than heavenly.

Lynette had suffered through art work
made in kindergarten...

...spice racks made in summer camp...

...and jewellery
made at the scout jamboree.

On this day...

...Lynette Scavo received a gift
every mother dreams of.

One she wasn't embarrassed to display.

- Where did you guys get this pot?
- We made it.

Really? I love it.



Well, this is the nicest present
you boys have ever given me.

I'll put it out on the front porch
so the whole neighbourhood can enjoy it.

Lynette would cherish
the memory of that moment

for the rest of her life.

The memory of that moment
was ruined the very next day.

Mrs McCluskey,
why are you taking my flower pot?

It's mine. Your boys stole it.

No, no, no. My sons made that
for me for Valentine's Day!

I bought this in Costa Rica
on my last cruise. You see?

It's still got the price tag on it.

What? Nothing more to say?
Cat got your tongue?

You listen to me,
keep your brats off my property.

Yes, most mothers will tell you
their children are a gift from God.

Most mothers will also tell you

there are some days
when you wish you could return them.

It was the day before Valentine's Day
and every man on Wisteria Lane

was preparing for this
most dangerous of holidays.

While some purchased
romantic cards...

...and some brought home
candy and flowers...

and some made dinner reservations
at fancy restaurants...

...others managed to forget
about the day entirely... again.

This flurry of activity was lost
on the women of Wisteria Lane.

They were busy learning
a secret about their neighbours.

A secret
that was positively heartbreaking.

So Paul said
that Zachary killed Dana?

Yeah.

It must have been an accident.
Boys don't just kill their sisters.

That boy is seriously disturbed and
I've forbidden Julie from seeing him.

So this is it. This is the secret
that Mary Alice was trying to protect.

The guilt she lived with.

I never thought I'd say this,
but I kind of feel sorry for Paul.

I wish I could.
I still feel like something's not right.

- What do you mean?
- We've all been in their house.

Have you ever seen a picture
of another kid?

Why keep Dana's baby blanket
and throw out all the photos?

That's a good point.

And why did Mary Alice refer to herself
as "Angela" in therapy?

Mary Alice loved Zach
more than anything in the world.

When you love a child that much...

You're capable of doing
all sorts of things.

Yeah.

Hello? These were delivered
to my house by mistake. May I?

They're for Mary Alice Young.

Oh, my God.

I had a standing order
with the florist.

I forgot to cancel it.

Mary Alice was my wife.
She passed away a few months ago.

I'm very sorry for your loss.

And I'm sorry for yours.

- Pardon?
- Your sister? Martha?

Oh... yes... her.

Good Lord, that's Angela.

What?

Angela Forrest. We worked together
in Utah. It must be 15 years ago.

I'm afraid you're mistaken.
My wife's name was Mary Alice.

She's never been to Utah.

Well, I could be mistaken.
As I said, it's been years.

No, Mickey, you're wrong.
I wasn't acting like a diva.

I left the boat show because that
coordinator was making passes at me.

I mean, it's not my fault.
Yao Lin, you missed a spot.

No, spare me the lecture
and just book me another job, quick.

Carlos and I are up to our asses
in bills and we can't pay 'em.

Fine. Bye.

- What did you say?
- Nothing.

Are you gonna clean that spot?

- Which one?
- The one I told you to clean.

I get to it.

Clean it now.

- Why?
- Because I said so.

OK. But you got to say please.

Fine. Please.

Anything to get you back on your knees
scrubbing where you belong.

- You're not better than me.
- Excuse me?

The only reason you have anything
in your life is because you're pretty.

One day you'll be old and
when that happens, you'll be nothing.

You are so fired.

No kidding.

Valentine's Day card. It's pretty.
And meticulously hand-painted.

Whoever sent you that
must really love you.

- And be loaded with talent.
- It's beautiful. Thanks.

We still on for tomorrow night?

I got reservations at Le Petit Fleur.

That place is so pretentious.
I've been dying to go there.

Boys? Get your little fannies inside.

Guys?

Poor, Lynette.

If she doesn't get a new nanny soon,
she's gonna implode.

Hey, guys.
Who you hiding from?

- Our mom.
- She wants to spank us.

Did you do something bad?

If you hide out too long,
she'll get worried.

Then she'll get madder.
You know what I say? Go on home.

Decent chance you'll have
the rest of day to play.

Come on, climb aboard.

All right.

- Pretty impressive.
- I love kids.

Can't wait to have my own some day.

- We don't want to get spanked.
- We promise we'll be good.

Too late. You stole.
And then you lied.

Even worse, you made me look bad
in front of Mrs McCluskey,

who you know
is Mommy's sworn enemy.

Time to pick your poison.

How about a belt? It's a classic.

Well, we could go
with the old hickory stick.

It's a clich?,

but it's effective.

I know. We'll go with the spatula.
The holes give it less wind resistance.

- Moves faster.
- No! No, no, no, no.

Guys! Hey, my hands are tied.
Thieves get spanked.

Just the way it works.

- Unless...
- Unless what?

For a first time offence,
if you swear,

cross your heart,
that you will never, never steal again,

and you write Mrs McCluskey
a letter of apology,

I will let it slide.

- OK!
- Yeah! We swear.

All right, start with
"Dear Mrs McCluskey..."

Mommy? Why are you smiling?

Do you know what
"psychological warfare" means?

- No.
- Well, too bad for you.

OK, start with a big "M", "C"...

Good.

Rex and I are hosting a dinner party
for ten next week.

We're using our best china
and serving duck.

So, you and Rex
are a couple again?

Yes. You know, that's one of things
I hated most about our separation.

Not being able
to throw dinner parties.

There's just something so civilised
and elegant about them, don't you think?

I take it you've resolved
your feelings about his infidelity?

Let's just say
I've put them in an imaginary box

and don't plan on looking
at them for a while.

Is that the healthiest way
to achieve a reconciliation?

Well, it won't be easy at first.

There'll be a lot of forced smiles
and perfunctory love-making,

but after a few decades whiz by,
I'm sure I'll find a way to forgive him.

Well, as long as you have a plan.

I do want to forgive him,

but there's something
he's still not telling me.

Really?

I think it has something
to do with why he had the affair.

- Have you confronted him?
- Once.

You should have seen
the look in his eyes.

He was terrified I'd figure it out.

You know what it is, don't you?

Bree, I can't discuss other patients.

I realise that.

This thing that he's hiding...
Is it bad?

Oh, OK...

Maybe it's better that I don't know.

Bree, how does this reconciliation
have a chance

if the two of you can't be honest
about the innermost parts of your life?

We're WASPs, Dr Goldfine.

Not acknowledging the elephant
in the room is what we do best.

You'd settle for that? A life
filled with repression and denial?

And the dinner parties.
Don't forget the dinner parties.

And over there
you got your queens and...

Your Quad Spring series,
and your deluxe 1000s,

all the way to the Imperial Paradise.
Sweet racket, huh?

Sometimes I wake up in the morning
and I can't believe I'm the Siesta King.

Except for how I am.

Very impressive.

So, where does the photographer
want me for the shoot?

Didn't your agent tell you?
There's no shoot.

Well, then what did you hire me for?

You've heard the expression
"sex sells"? That's you.

You're to remind people
there's a lot of fun things they can do

on a Siesta King mattress
that don't involve sleep. Get it?

It is often said that good fences
make good neighbours.

But as Lynette was about to discover,

the fence might just need
a little barbed wire

if the neighbour is Mrs McCluskey.

Hey!

What do you think you are doing?
Get out of here.

Your little criminals snuck into
my house and stole my wall clock.

What?

It was a hand-painted, purple
and white wall clock. My son made it.

You sure you didn't misplace it?

No offence, but you probably
forget where you put things.

No offence,
but you should be sterilised.

My boys do not
break into people's houses.

They may have stolen your flowerpot.

- They apologised for that.
- They wrote a note.

The coward's way out.
They should've apologised in person.

- This has been fun. But now...
- You let those boys run wild.

Toys all over the yard, bikes out
in the street. It's a disgrace.

Get out!

Those boys would've been
better off raised by wolves.

God knows they would have been cleaner.

Valentine's Day is tomorrow.

I know. I already bought your gifts.

Roses and English toffee?

Just like always.

Yes. And I suppose we'll make love
tomorrow night, too.

That is our little tradition.

Good. I'm looking forward to it.

Are you looking forward to it?

What?

I know that I don't...
please you sexually,

so I was wondering if you were
looking forward to being with me.

Oh, for God's sake.

I'm sorry. I thought I could pretend
that this doesn't upset me anymore.

- But I can't.
- Please, don't do this.

You went to another woman for sex
to give you something I couldn't.

At least tell me
what that something is.

- Bree, I can't.
- Why not?

Rex, please tell me. Let me
prove to you how much I love you.

I like to be dominated.

Sexually.

Never mind.

Rex, please,
I want to understand.

Please, Mistress, no.

- Quiet, slave.
- Yes, mistress.

- Turn your head. Don't look at me.
- Mistress...

On your knees, now. Right now.
Tighten your cuff.

- Yes, mistress.
- Do it now. Take it out.

Yes. Yes!

- Put it in your mouth.
- Yes, Mistress.

Well?

- What did your mother do to you?
- What?

This just reeks
of unresolved childhood trauma.

It has nothing to do with my mother.
This is a preference.

- It's a perversion.
- You promised to be supportive.

What do you want me to say?

My husband wears metal clamps
around his nipples, hooray?

I want you to to try it.
Just once.

Try what? Hurting you?
You actually want me to hurt you?

So, I can feel pleasure, yes.

Fine.

So, was it good for you, too?

Mike wants babies.

- What?
- He wants to have kids.

He had that look men get that says,

"I'm ready to procreate,
point me to the nearest cervix".

- And this is a problem?
- I can't have another baby.

I'm so grateful I had you,
I don't regret a minute of that.

But I found it
to be completely overwhelming.

Sometimes I even wonder
how I got through it.

You and me both.

So, have you told Mike how you feel?

I can't tell him.
This could be a deal-breaker.

Julie, I really love him.
I don't want to lose him.

Maybe you're overreacting.
I bet he'd rather have you than a baby.

What if he doesn't?

Then that's something
you need to know.

Susan shouldn't have been so worried.

Children were the last thing
on Mike's mind.

He was too busy
searching for answers

in all the wrong places.

Please, just...

You got lucky.
Didn't hit anything major.

- Noah's getting impatient.
- Tell Noah I'm getting closer.

- That's her, isn't it?
- Yeah.

Hard to believe a kid from such
a good family could get so messed up.

I met somebody
who recognised her photo.

Thinks she rented a room
on Pine Avenue.

I was checking out houses when...

Hey, Mike, it's me.
Are you there? Pick up. Hello?

OK, I know you're home.
Your lights are on.

Look, I really need
to talk to you about something.

You know what?
I'll just stop by.

Hey.

I'm here.

- Are you OK?
- Yeah.

Yeah, I just... stubbed my toe.

So, can I come over? I need
to talk to you about something.

I got a buddy over here right now...
Can it wait till dinner tomorrow?

It's kind of important.
Yeah, I guess it can wait.

- OK, see you at seven?
- I'm counting the minutes.

You should take it easy
for the next few days.

I can't cancel. The last thing
I need is for her to get suspicious.

Maybe it's my dementia, but I still
haven't found my purple wall clock.

Nobody in my family knows
or cares where your stupid clock is.

And tell your little criminals
to get their bikes out of the street.

- I'll get it.
- No. Don't you dare.

We'll move it when you say please.

Please.

OK, Lynette, let's not get crazy.

Even though it was Mrs McCluskey
who had officially declared war,

it was Lynette who decided
to deliver the opening salvo.

- You'll clean that up!
- Think so?

Yes.

Yes, the war of Wisteria Lane

would indeed prove to be messy
for everyone involved.

Pardon me? Pardon me?

We were wondering
what the coil count is on this one.

Sorry.

What is this?

People keep coming and talking to me.
Asking me questions. That is not my job.

- You don't have to be rude.
- I am not a mattress salesperson.

Is there something wrong
with being a mattress salesperson?

- Is it beneath you or something?
- Honestly? Yes. I'm a model.

Your agent warned me
that you were a diva. And he was right.

You won't talk to the customers,

and you didn't chip in
for Hazel's birthday cake.

- I just met the woman today.
- That didn't stop you having a piece.

I'm sorry. But I don't want someone
in my store that's not a team player.

- Oh, no. Wait.
- You're fired, princess.

No...

I need to know
if my policy covers it.

No, my car wasn't involved.

It was my neighbour's car...
but the egg was mine.

Aha. Well, can I speak
to your supervisor?

Honey? Can you come out here?

What?

Look what I found
stashed in the boys' playhouse.

Please tell me
that's not a purple wall clock.

Pack your bags, we're moving.

Discouraged over losing herjob,

Gabrielle decided a makeover would be
the perfect cure for her depression.

It was after finding a moisturiser
she couldn't afford

that it finally occurred to Gabrielle...

...perhaps it was her pride
that needed a makeover.

Excuse me, miss?

- You forgot to give me my receipt.
- Right. Here.

Here we go. Thank you. Come again.

Mrs Solis?

Oh, God...

Hello.

Hello, Yao Lin.

- How are you?
- Good. Very good.

I wanted to call you. I felt terrible
about how we left things.

- I need lipstick.
- OK, but...

Now.

You must be loving this. Huh?

Having me serve you
must be a dream come true.

Can't complain.

That's the difference between
you and me, Yao Lin, our dreams.

Close your eyes, please.

Thank you.

You see, I dreamed of pulling myself up
from nothing, and I did.

I dreamed about the things I wanted,
and I got them all:

A high powered career, a handsome
husband, an extravagant house.

This is just a blip on the radar for me.

Because now I know what I'm capable of.

And if I did it once, I can do it again.

I'm never really down, Yao Lin.
Even when it looks like I am.

So, enjoy this moment,
enjoy your dream.

Cos for you,
it doesn't get any better than this.

There. Don't you look beautiful?

Right this way.

- Everything OK?
- This dress is just riding up.

If I walk any faster it'll be
Happy Valentine's Day for everyone.

Especially me.

Thank you.

Excuse me, miss?

I'm so sorry! Is everyone OK?

Thank you.
Thank you, so much.

- Ma'am, your napkin.
- Don't even think about it.

It's so wonderful,
what you wrote. Thank you.

OK, I'm not gonna be any type of company
until I get something off of my chest.

Do you remember when you...
said that you wanted to have kids?

Here's the thing.

I don't think
I'm ready to have another baby.

I think we need
to have a serious conversation.

Sure.

- I'm not going over there.
- Yes, you are.

No. I can deal with the humiliation
of returning everything the boys stole,

but please,
don't make me apologise to her.

This is being a good neighbour.

Finding ways of getting along instead
of, you know, hurling an egg at them.

Why don't we just go, "we're even",
and start from scratch?

If the "pleasant human being"
argument doesn't fly,

we'll try self-preservation.

She wakes up, the house is on fire.
You don't want her to call 911?

If our house catches fire, I guarantee
she's the one that started it.

OK, my point is, the day will come
when we need her help.

And I don't want her not to help us
just because of some silly feud.

- Fine. I'll do it.
- Thank you.

Whoever came up with
"Love Thy Neighbour"

lived nowhere near
Karen McCluskey.

Yes, well, on Valentine's Day,
the only motto that really matters is,

- "Love Thy Husband".
- Really? I recall no such motto.

I understand
why you would want to have kids,

but that chapter in my life
is just closed.

I don't think I can go back there.

And so, you know,
given the way I feel

and given the way I think you feel...

Oh, God. You're not taking this well.
Oh, I was afraid of this.

What?

I gotta go.

What?

I'm sorry.

You're leaving without trying
to talk me into having your baby?

How do you know I wouldn't cave?
I always cave. I...

Mike?

- Good night.
- Night.

So, how does this...
domination thing work?

So there's nothing to be afraid of.

We'll be constructing simple scenarios
and acting them out.

So, it's like we're in a little play.

Sort of.

If things get too rough,
we'll have a control word.

If one of us says it,
the other backs off.

OK. So what's our control word?

Well, lately
I've been using "Philadelphia".

What's wrong?

Aunt Fern lives in Philadelphia.
I don't want to think about her

while I'm spanking you
with a leather strap.

OK. Fine. You pick a control word.

How about "Boise"?

- "Boise"?
- What's the matter with "Boise"?

We're gonna be
doing psychological role-playing,

and a funny word like "Boise"
will ruin the mood.

We need something that sounds serious.

How about "Palestine"?

"Boise" will be just fine.

So, I guess we should get started.

What do you want me to do?

Handcuff me to the bed.

Bree, you are not gonna regret
taking this journey with me.

This is gonna infuse our marriage
with more passion than you can imagine.

You just have to trust me.

I do.

Would you mind if I ran these
through the dishwasher once?

Sure.

You can see him
as soon as the doctor's finished.

OK. Thanks.

Can you believe that story?

No way that gunshot wound
was self-inflicted.

And he can't remember
who stitched him up.

Well, the police are on their way
to talk to him. Let them sort it out.

Sorry about ruining dinner.

Please, I'm just glad you're OK.

So, you shot yourself?

Pretty lame, huh?

Yeah, I was cleaning my automatic
and was too embarrassed to tell you.

Well, I could see why you would be.

I know it sounds crazy, I just...

I couldn't let myself ruin
your Valentine's Day.

But I heard what you said
at the restaurant.

- About not wanting kids.
- We don't have to talk about that.

No, Susan.

I just want to be with you
above everything else.

If that means not being a dad...

I may be stupid enough
to shoot myself,

but I'm not stupid enough
to walk away from you.

You know that, right?

Yeah.

I'm gonna go outside
and let you rest for a while.

Thanks...
for being so understanding.

Ma'am.

Mr Delfino? I'm Officer Russell,
this is Officer Walters.

We'd like to
ask you a few questions.

What do you want?

The boys have something
they'd like to say to you.

I have some tea heating on the stove.
Perhaps you'd better come inside, boys.

What about you, Lynette?
Do you have anything to say?

No. I'll just wait out here.

Suit yourself.

You boys want some peanut brittle?

Go ahead.

Don't get any crumbs on my floor.
Move over.

OK, go ahead.
Make with the apology.

We're sorry.

That's it, huh?
Didn't you know stealing is wrong?

- How old are you anyway?
- We're six.

- And how old are you?
- Five.

Boy, your mother
just pops them out, doesn't she?

How old are you?

- How old do you think?
- 150.

Hurry up and eat your peanut brittle.

Who's that?

That's my little boy.

Where does he live?

- He died when he was 12.
- How come?

He got sick.
He was a little terror like you three.

You would've liked him.

Now, you done with the peanut brittle?

Let's go.

Now, I wanna say something
to you before you go.

What you did was wrong,

but it's nice you got a present
for your Mom for Valentine's Day.

Nobody's ever gonna love you
like your mother.

All right, let's go.

Get the hell out of my house.

In her heart, Lynette knew she would
probably never love her neighbour,

never realising love was the one thing
she and her neighbour had in common.

- Hi.
- Hey, Lynette.

What's wrong?

My kids have been on a thieving jag.
Stealing stuff from the neighbourhood.

I'm so sorry.

I know. They're being punished.
Probably for life.

But I needed you to see something.

They stole it from Mike's garage.
From inside his workbench.

Your Mike.

- So?
- Read the engraving.

- Is that blood?
- I don't know.

What does this mean?

I don't know.

It's impossible to grasp
just how powerful love is.

It can sustain us
through trying times...

...or motivate us
to make extraordinary sacrifices.

It can force decent men
to commit the darkest deeds.

Or compel ordinary women
to search for hidden truths.

And long after we're gone,

love remains,
burned into our memories.

We all search for love.

But some of us,

after we've found it,

wish we hadn't.