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When Carrie Bradshaw quietly asked the question “How have we not had this discussion until now?” — oh, reader, I laughed and laughed and laughed some more. You’re right, Car Bear, how have you and Aidan, two adults — allegedly — not ironed out what is pretty much the most essential part of your little five-year relationship hold agreement: Are we sleeping with other people or nah? To be so honest with you, I just assumed these two crazy kids had figured this out and we simply weren’t privy to this information because that would be pretty typical for And Just Like That … But it turns out, no, no, they had not done so and furthermore were on very different pages about it. When Aidan arrives in New York and spirals over breaking Carrie’s antique French door glass until he finally admits he slept with his ex-wife, Kathy, they are forced to broach that subject. They do so in the most infuriating way. Which, hey, would also be typical of this show.
The other major story line in this episode has to do with Lisa Todd Wexley’s father dying and Lisa butting heads with his colleague Lucille (a perfect Jenifer Lewis) about how theatrical the funeral should be. It made me realize that what I’m missing from Carrie and Aidan’s relationship is theatrics. There’s no passion! When Aidan admits to sleeping with Kathy as a way to comfort each other after an upsetting incident, sending Wyatt off to a wilderness camp, Carrie’s response is “I understand.” Girl, what? It’s not like she comes to that conclusion after taking time to process the news. Aidan’s over here torn up about betraying her and assuring her that he (and Kathy) knew it was a mistake immediately (poor Boyfriend Bob!), and her immediate reaction is a simple and calm “I understand.” Now, she understands because, as she tells Aidan, they are allowed to sleep with other people; that’s the deal. This is news to Aidan, who thought they would be faithful to each other regardless of the distance. Carrie isn’t wrong: A rule like that seems ridiculous and also, as proven by Aidan, basically untenable, but it is insane that they never had this talk. It is the crux of the entire arrangement.
Even more insane: They never actually have a conversation about this! The next thing we know, they’re in bed together. The storyline is supposed to be about Carrie and Aidan figuring this out, but we don’t watch them as they hash out rules and boundaries? Are we supposed to take Carrie’s “you thought I wouldn’t have sex with anyone else for five years?” as the final word on their relationship? There’s no yelling or tears or sincere explanation of needs. There is no, say it with me, passion. There is, however, a story beat in which Aidan joins Carrie for LTW’s father’s funeral, and his suit is too small and his pants rip, exposing his “big and tall” because why not. This show remains so unfocused. The episode ends with Aidan getting ready to head back to Virginia and bumping into Duncan as he leaves Carrie the first chapter of his book for her to read, and Aidan has this look on his face that says “Oh, so you’re probably the guy my girlfriend’s going to be humping soon,” which is certainly a way to wrap this whole thing up. This Carrie-Aidan set-up remains, as always, a real drag on this series.
What’s wild is the things that should be a drag — Lisa’s father dying, Charlotte grappling with Harry’s mortality, you know, traditionally draggy things — are the most satisfying and genuinely moving parts of this episode.
Lisa is busy in the editing suite with her work crush, Marion, when she gets the news about her father. In an effort to focus on her doc (and, maybe, Marion?), she puts her phone on silent for the day. Herbert arrives at her office to tell her what’s happened. Her father had a stroke, but it’s too late to go and see him — he’s gone. The guilt of having her phone off and potentially missing the chance to say good-bye to her father weighs heavily on Lisa. It’s why she’s almost glad to have Lucille, who worked with her dad at his Newark Theatre, plan a big funeral event without even asking her to be involved. Lisa gets an evite to her own father’s funeral, and she is furious. She meets Lucille at a Newark diner to discuss, but meeting with Lucille really only makes Lisa feel even more guilty for being “too busy” to always be there for her father. This isn’t the truth of the situation, and Lisa’s father was unbelievably proud of her, but the woman is in her feelings. At the very least, Lisa gets Lucille to agree to a simple and elegant funeral at the theater. No theatrics.
There are theatrics. Lucille can’t help herself. She kicks off the event with a solo number from Pippin. The phrase “it’s a Pippin funeral?” is objectively hilarious. And yes, it is a Pippin funeral. When it’s Lisa’s turn to get up and make a speech — Lucille, emceeing the event with a mic she keeps in her Michael Kors purse, gives Lisa a tight three minutes for her eulogy — she is beside herself. The guilt takes over and she can’t get through her speech. But Herbert’s by her side reminding her that she was there for her dad. It’s wonderfully supportive, but there is a much more surprising place LTW finds comfort during this emotional day: her mother-in-law. Yep, the same mother-in-law who is constantly making not-so-subtle digs at Lisa’s life choices, even on the day of her father’s funeral. But in the end, after listening to Lisa get upset about missing her father’s last moments, her mother-in-law tells her that if she wasn’t there with her dad in the end, it’s because his spirit didn’t want her there and because he didn’t want to be remembered that way. It is a comfort and a kindness in the unlikeliest of places.
Speaking of finding comfort when it is most needed: All the talk of death has really done a number on Charlotte. She’s doing her best to remain positive about Harry’s prostate-cancer diagnosis, but keeping it a secret is wearing on her. He’s decided to go ahead with surgery, and he has a 98 percent survival rate, but watching Lisa deal with her father’s sudden death — well, sudden for an almost-90-year-old — is making it harder for her to really believe that everything will be okay. Not even the sweetest little forehead touch from Harry eases her fears. And yet still, Charlotte is determined to keep it all to herself.
This is why when Carrie heads to her local pharmacy to pick up some more Tums post-Aidan (she is hitting the Tums hard these days), she spots Charlotte all the way downtown shopping for adult diapers. When Charlotte sees her friend as she stands in the aisle with two packs of diapers for her husband in her hands, she can’t help but tell her everything that’s been going on. I guess miracles do happen, because Carrie doesn’t, not even once, make this about herself. Instead, she tells Charlotte that she will be “a vault” for her. “You tell me anything, big or small, I will not tell a soul.” Then she holds her friend as she sobs. And Just Like That … has a lot of problems, but when it focuses on this group of women being there for one another, it is at its best.
This and That
• Miranda is trying not to be a “lesbian cliché,” but she’s out here introducing her new girlfriend to Brady and eating outside to accommodate Joy’s dogs and making real-estate decisions based on what might work best for Joy — Miranda is in deep!
• Seema has an emotional good-bye with her [checks notes] chauffeur and is generally feeling bad for herself and her heels once she’s forced to take the PATH out to Newark. She is excellent at her job, though — she finds two near-perfect apartments for Miranda, so there’s little doubt she’ll be back to her old self in no time.
• LTW, or Nicole Ari Parker, to be honest, should start a structured funeralwear line. That dress? I forgot to be sad for a second!
• Will be using Jenifer Lewis’s phrasing of “this key lime has seen better days!” from now on. What a gift!