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No Expectations: “And Just Like That” Season 2 Finale recap

This year I, like Carrie Bradshaw, am letting go of expectations. But unlike ol’ Car Bear, mother of a cat named Shoe (or Shoo, it remains unclear), I’m not talking about the expectations of what the future holds or accepting that you never really know what life has in store for you. No, the expectations I am letting go of are my expectations for this show. Once you let go of the idea of what you think And Just Like That … should be (the spiritual sequel to Sex and the City, coherent) and allow it to be what it is (chaos, about a woman unwilling to say “vaginal suppository”) it is a much more enjoyable experience. Let it wash over you! Let And Just Like That … live! It’s much more fun, I promise. Otherwise, I’d be over here raging about how the much-touted Last Supper at Carrie’s old apartment held so much potential for drama and mess and instead gave us an attempt at introspection and was kind of boring? And not even one gratuitous shot of great food. It gave so very little. But that doesn’t matter, because good-bye expectations …

… Hello, Samantha Jones. Oh, listen, I know Kim Catrall’s cameo was only maybe a minute long, but didn’t it feel good to see her again? It turns out Samantha was going to surprise Carrie and fly in for the Last Supper, but some London fog kept her on the runway. Still, we get to hear her say “fucking fabulous” and give a great callback to Annabelle Bronstein, the English woman she pretended to be to get into the Soho House pool back in SATC season six. It was too short, yes, but it was also kind of lovely. In just one minute Catrall provided the kind of energy AJLT is lacking. Always leave them wanting more, I guess.

The same could be said about this Last Supper. Every main cast member is present and really very little happens. Give me high jinks or give me death! Or, at the very least, give me a little bit of a trip down memory lane in this iconic locale. I thought, perhaps, Carrie would ask her guests to share memories of the apartment at some point since this is a good-bye party of sorts. Like, at least help Lisette understand the gravity of what she’s inheriting. But mostly I wanted people to talk about the apartment because can you imagine the reaction if Che stood up and told everyone about the time she finger-fucked Miranda over in the kitchen? I want a tight close-up on Harry’s face during that entire story. Alas, we get Charlotte mentioning Chinese takeout on the floor, but no one else cares enough to chat about what this ol’ gal has given us all. Instead, Carrie gathers 13 of her closest pals, many of whom she just met in the past two years (something Carrie should really have a nice, long think about), and asks them to go around and share one thing they want to let go of using just one word. If this is what adults are doing at dinner parties, please, never invite me.

The exercise, of course, gives us a way to check in on everybody’s storyline. It’s very efficient from a recapper’s perspective, if nothing else. Che kicks things off by announcing they’re letting go of “rules” to which I’d ask, what rules have they been adhering to thus far? Certainly not the rules of comedy — hey-o! While I had been hoping for Che and Miranda’s first run-in since the “comedy” show debacle to provide a little more oomph (again, I’m letting go of expectations, I swear), the two, instead, handle the situation like adults. Who knew? When Miranda first arrives, she finds Che in their old fingering corner and they make amends. Che promises to never do those “jokes” or talk about Miranda onstage again. They apologize, which is nice! They were hurting from the fact that Miranda completely ghosted them post-breakup. The two of them agree that their relationship was a train wreck, but a meaningful one. (??) Still, Che remains adamant that their “jokes” were in fact really funny and that feels on brand. Reader, I laughed and laughed. They are not the kind of laughs Che wants, but hey, still a laugh, right?

Regardless, Miranda is making good on her promise to not just cut people out of her life anymore. Aside from Che, earlier in the episode she goes to visit Steve at his new Coney Island place and they have a sweet, closure-filled chat in which they agree to be friends. After both of those interactions, it makes sense for Miranda to offer up “guilt” as the thing she’s letting go of, since it really does seem like she is trying to make sure her guilt over her past doesn’t hinder her future. By the end of the episode, she’s giving a great interview to BBC News on behalf of her job and having drinks that may or may not be flirtatious with that Joy woman we met while Miranda was at the U.N. last week. Miranda’s come a long way from where she started this season, which, if you’ll remember, was basically a slug person falling out of a sensory deprivation tank. Things are looking up!

Miranda’s roommate Nya is letting go of “needing a fully fleshed out character” oh wait, no, I’m sorry, she’s letting go of “yesterday.” She actually gets more of a storyline in this episode than she has much of the season: Nya gets a huge win at work, only to be devastated when she realizes all she wants is someone to share it with, but then things turn around again when surprise, surprise, the Michelin-starred chef cooking Carrie’s dinner is that hot guy Toussaint she met at the bar earlier in the season. Before, she had to turn down his advances because she was still figuring out her marriage situation, but now the two of them are seconds away from fucking on the dinner table while talking about olives exploding. Even Anthony tells them to get a room. Elsewhere, LTW is letting go of “guilt,” like Miranda, since she’s plagued by the thought of somehow bringing on her own miscarriage. She does actually use the term “miscarried” in this episode which is more than she ever said “abortion,” so at least we’re taking a step somewhat in the right direction? This whole storyline still feels shoehorned-in, but we’ll see what season three (!!!) brings us in the LTW department. Meanwhile, Anthony is giving up “control” and Giuseppe is giving up “Rome,” all of which means these two guys are very in love, Giuseppe is not going to move back to Italy, and Anthony is ready to break down some walls he’s had up and lose his “ass virginity.” How sweet.

Seema is letting go of “distrust.” She’s been spiraling since saying “I love you” first to Ravi, but Carrie tells her friend to get a goddamn grip. It’s rich coming from Carrie Bradshaw, who has never had a grip on anything in her life, but sometimes the right advice comes from the most unlikely places. It’s obvious that Seema is scared by how much she loves Ravi, that he could possibly be the person she’s been waiting for her entire life, and therefore is pulling away. Ravi, however, makes it clear that he feels the same way about her. He has to go to Cairo for five months for his movie, but promises he’ll be back because he loves Seema. It’s cute even if I am ambivalent toward this Ravi guy whose personality thus far is mostly “answers phone,” “talks about the Sphinx,” and “scarves.” If Seema’s happy, I’m happy!

And then there’s the host of this Last Supper. And Just Like That’s Jesus Christ, if you will. Carrie, as I mentioned, is letting go of expectations because sometimes things turn out better than you ever could have expected. It’s both a nice sentiment and a huge dig at her late husband. Alas, almost immediately following her big dinner, Carrie learns that just because you want to let go of expectations doesn’t mean it’s easy to do so. Aidan arrives from Virginia, tossing stones at her window and everything, and yes, he does walk into that Apartment of Misery one last time. But the win is short-lived. He has some major news. He needs to make his kids his priority, which means he won’t be coming back to New York any time soon and, apparently, he doesn’t even want Carrie to visit in Norfolk because it would be too distracting. Instead, he wants her to wait until Wyatt isn’t a teenager anymore — five years. Then he can be done prioritizing his kids, or whatever. Prioritizing your kids is a good thing, but asking a woman to wait five years for you? That’s shitty! Especially after she sold her apartment and bought a big fancy one for you guys to live in. Five years is a long time, no matter how many times Aidan wants to pretend snapping his fingers is somehow romantic. No one can make snapping sexy, okay? I’ve tried!!

And yet, Carrie’s into it. No one explains the parameters of this setup — Can she sleep with other people? Does he really not want her to visit once in five years? — but regardless, Carrie is willing to wait for her man to come back to her. She has no regrets about starting things up with Aidan again and no regrets about buying her new apartment, which is in stark contrast to how she immediately wondered if her entire marriage was a mistake after a few weeks hooking up with Aidan again. (I’m not the biggest Big fan, but, yeesh.) And so, time will literally tell if these two kids can actually make this thing work.

Thankfully, the episode ends on a much more satisfying note: Much like how And Just Like That … ushered in the season, we go out with a big ol’ montage full of sex, love, and cell phone setup. Everyone is getting what they need, it seems. And speaking of, the episode closes with Carrie and Seema, both waiting for their men to come back, finally summering together. They might choose Greece instead of the Hamptons, but they’re still drinking cosmos.