Happy Fourth of July, indeed! It may or may not technically be Independence Day within the confines of And Just Like That … — What is time on this show anyway? — but it is summer, and most of our main gals are currently fighting for something they want desperately, to varying degrees of success. No one makes a big speech about how they will not go quietly into the night, but the sentiment is surely there, so you know what? Today is their Independence Day. Light up your fireworks accordingly.
Take Charlotte, for example: Charlotte refuses to let her husband suffer from his dust balls alone. When Harry can’t come anymore, it’s a problem for both of them. Charlotte is, self-admittedly, a come-slut after all, so she gets her man to the doctor’s and then is more than happy to be his in-house Kegel trainer (we can thank Samantha Jones for this, who is probably doing Kegels as we speak over in London) to get his gear back in working order. She even comes up with a little rhyme to keep him motivated: “Two, three, four, slurp the sperm from the pelvic floor.” That’s dedication to the cause right there. Charlotte and Harry are freak shows, and I love them. Eventually, Harry does jizz again and our national nightmare is over. Since Charlotte likens coming to the fireworks finale on the Fourth of July, this really does feel like a joyous victory for her. And it might not be her last: During LTW and Herbert’s doomed 20th-anniversary party, Charlotte winds up chatting with an acclaimed art-gallery owner, played by Victor Garber, who remembers Charlotte from her own art days and—impressed with her work back then and her tough love toward kids off at sleepaway camp now—offers her a job. She turns him down, citing her children needing her, but something tells me this isn’t the end of the discussion. Good for Charlotte York-Goldenblatt, getting Ws both personally and professionally.
But not every victory seems as sweet as the Curious Case of Harry Goldenblatt’s Missing Sperm. LTW continues her never-ending battle with her mother-in-law — which, in all fairness, is only a battle because Mama Wexley makes it one — but this time around, the stakes are raised by the addition of Mr. Todd (hello, Billy Dee Williams!), who could not heap more lavish praise on his daughter or more disdain on his son-in-law. Mr. Todd is a poet and playwright, and finds Herbert’s life on Wall Street abhorrent. How Herbert and Lisa ever made it down the aisle 20 years ago is a true mystery.
When their 20th-anniversary party is a bust because Herbert forgot to send out the e-vites and Lisa forgot to order the cake since both of them are insanely busy people, things go downhill fast as they start taking heat from their in-laws. Finally, to stand up for her husband and, more important, change the subject from what Mama Wexley believes are Lisa’s failings as a mother and wife, Lisa announces that Herbert is running for city comptroller even though just the other night he informed her he wouldn’t be running because he didn’t want to burden her with more responsibilities. It was actually quite thoughtful on Hebert’s part, but all of that is tossed out the window when Lisa wants to prove to her father that her husband is about more than profit and to her mother-in-law that she is a supportive wife.
The plan does work in that it shifts the conversation, but it does seem like an awful lot for the Wexley household to take on. Those two hotties are already so busy that when their kids head off to sleepaway camp, they’re excited not because they get to have more sex, like their Goldenblatt counterparts, but because they have more time to work. What will a campaign do to them? How many espresso martinis will they have to suck down to survive that?
Meanwhile, Miranda’s dealing with her own battles on two separate fronts. It’s been three weeks since she returned to New York to assist Brady with his breakup. In family therapy, it seems like Brady’s over Luisa — a real gift to all of us — but is now demanding that his parents figure their shit out. Honestly, and I hate saying this with every fiber of my very being, Brady’s right. Miranda and Steve are sort of separated, but Miranda’s been living on the couch and Steve’s been not saying much but working out a lot. Miranda seems happy with Che, and yet no one has fully moved on from this marriage. Everyone’s tiptoeing around the inevitable. Even when Brady announces that he’s not going to college, Steve wants to appease his son, and Miranda wants to appease Steve, so there are zero follow-ups asked. Miranda and Steve need to officially end their marriage and move forward. The way things stand now, everyone is confused and no one gets to enjoy Steve’s perfectly shredded body! Those two need to get their shit together because those abs deserve love.
And while the other part of Miranda’s life seems to be going well, I don’t know, friends, something about the way that almost three-way with Lyle went down felt a little off. Now, if you’re reading this recap without having watched the episode, I truly apologize for not easing into the whole Miranda-Che-Lyle three-way thing, but I feel like in situations like this one it’s best to just rip the Band-Aid off because, what?!
Lyle helps Che move back to New York, and after a little welcome-back gathering with Miranda and Carrie, full of cute stories from their two-year marriage about pegging and dabbling in throuple-dom, Lyle passes out in Che’s bed. Not wanting to kick the very helpful guy out onto the already broken couch, Che and Miranda simply get in bed too. While there were no real plans for a three-way, once Lyle wakes up to Miranda and Che hooking up, he joins in, and Che seems super into it. After a truly excellent moment of panic and reasoning, Miranda decides to be into it, too. Why not just try it out? While things stop before they really get going thanks to Miranda’s charley horse, did anyone else notice that Miranda kind of had to fight to get involved in the first place, or am I just seeing things? Sure, Che forgoes Miranda’s invitation to continue on without her and joins her on the broken couch for the night, but still, it feels like some trouble could be brewing there.
Carrie’s situation is much more clear-cut: After bumping into her old Vogue editor, Enid Frick (Candice Bergen), Carrie is desperate to get Enid to mention her memoir in Enid’s very successful newsletter, Ask Enid. She’s so desperate, in fact, that even though she’s a little insulted when Enid lumps the two of them into the same age demographic, she decides to attend Enid’s launch party for her new online magazine for women of a certain age, Vivante — it’s French for “alive.” Thankfully, Carrie eventually recognizes her own inherent ageism, but that’s only because Gloria Steinem gives a rousing speech at the party about how age is the new frontier of revolution. Otherwise, I guess, Carrie would’ve just continued on with her vow to never be in a picture with a woman using a walker. Carrie remains a monster, but she’s our monster.
Carrie’s feeling extra sensitive about her age because, on top of the Enid stuff, she started getting texts from an interested suitor who looks to be much, much older than she is. “Was my life recently hacked by the AARP?” she wonders to Seema. It turns out it was good ol’ Bitsy — she is, of course, also at Enid’s party — who gave this guy Carrie’s number after their run-in at the nail salon. Bitsy pushes for Carrie to call Marlon. He is apparently the best sex she’s had since Bobby died, thanks to his generous endowment, if you know what I mean. And if you don’t know what I mean: His nickname is the Tripod. Carrie is an awkward human on a good day, so imagine how she reacts to Bitsy sending her a dick pic of Marlon while Gloria Steinem addresses the group. The cuts between Gloria, Bitsy giving a thumbs-up, and Carrie’s horrified face is high art.
Things only get more awkward, if you can believe it, when Carrie finally gets the chance to thank Gloria for everything she’s done and grabs a quick picture with her and Enid. Gloria goes on her way, but Enid wants to vet the photos. At this moment, Carrie works up the nerve to trade an essay in Vivante for a write-up of Loved and Lost in Ask Enid, but Enid reveals that she’s not interested in Carrie’s writing — she’s interested in Carrie’s money. She wants her to donate $100,000 to the magazine start-up. It’s an easy “no” for Carrie since Enid had been such a dick about plugging Carrie’s book.
Unfortunately, at that very moment, Enid comes across the dick in Carrie’s camera roll. She’s not shocked because it’s a dick pic, though — in a perfect little twist, Enid’s shocked because she recognizes that dick. Enid’s been dating the Tripod! Carrie has no excuse for why she has a picture of Enid’s boyfriend’s penis on her phone, which also implies that Enid is old, and then proceeds to lose all grasp on the English language, so in the end is left with no other move but to give Enid the money. Honestly, knowing Carrie, she probably still takes this as a win because it means Enid only wanted Carrie at the launch for a check and not because of her age. Who cares about getting her book plugged, she’s still! not! that! old! and a win is a win. That’s our girl, maybe?