Over at the gallery, they find that Mama Isles didn’t even bother to put Maura on the list of guests. But Jane’s not about to let her lady love get turned away from her mother’s own event. So she flashes her badge like a boss and gets them in. That’s right.
Once inside, Constance floats on over on her cloud of superiority and greets them as if she’d rolled a red carpet in welcome. But Jane’s not the hypocritical sort. She asks Maura if she’d get them something to drink. She’d like to talk to Mama Isles all by herself.
Constance: I can see why Maura likes you. You’re direct. It’s refreshing.
Jane: I’m protective.
“I can see why Maura likes you.” Mm-hmm. Loves, really.
Jane lays down the law and basically points out the many obvious ways in which Mama Isles has been hurting Maura. Hurting Maura is a big no-no. Jane will not stand for it. She slaps Constance around with the truth until Mama Isles tears up and admits that she’s not a very good mother.
I love protective Jane.
Then the main plot takes over again. They catch all responsible parties. The end.
Time for drinks!
Jane, Maura and Angela go out to the pub. They discuss Starsky’s miraculous recovery. Jane tries to be funny, pointing out how Starsky has even more turquoise feathers after he recovered, but Maura delivers a swift kick under the table and silences any more smartassy comments.
I’m guessing this is foreplay.
Mama Isles wanders in. Maura thought she was in Paris.
Jane: She forgot to say goodbye.
Jane’s looking all smug and knowing, which gives it all away.
I sense there will be some undressing tonight…
Constance joins the party and spots a waitress delivering milkshakes, and says she wants one. This prompts a table-round craving for milkshakes. Well, Angela wants one now, anyway.
Angela: I would like one. Strawberry.
Jane: Since when do you like milkshakes?
Angela: Since now.
I like how Angela is trying to suck up to her future in-law. Or maybe it’s some form of old-fashioned flirting. I can’t tell anymore because Angela said she knows all about objectifying women, so I can’t be certain of anything anymore.
After a silly misunderstanding about the existence of “beer milkshakes,” Jane points out the resemblance between Constance and Maura, which prompts Maura to point out how very alike Angela and Jane are. That’s Jane’s queue to kick Maura under the table. Which prompts the mothers to go, “What is it?”
Jane and Maura: Nothing.
Nothing but love.