Well, Larsa now knows what’s eating Guerdy Abraira, and she isn’t being quiet about it. We see Larsa agree with Guerdy not to tell the other women, and then the editors slap this notice on the screen: “Six hours later.” It’s quickly followed by: “No seriously … just six hours later.” Oh, it has been made very clear who is in the wrong in this situation, and it’s not only common decency that is telling us this; it is those in charge of putting this very show on the air or whatever you call it when you are watching it on your phone on the subway.
But let’s back up a minute to the beginning of Guerdy and Larsa’s conversation, because it perfectly illustrates what about Larsa drives me absolutely insane. Larsa keeps asking Guerdy, “What are you crying about?” with the kind of annoyance you use when a 4-year-old is having a tantrum in the middle of Target because you won’t let her play with a whole Scotch Tape display. Guerdy tells her that she has breast cancer.
Larsa’s first response is not, “That is awful.” It is not, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?” It is not, “How can I help.” Her first response is, “How was I supposed to know?” Even Guerdy’s cancer, which has literally furrowed into her body like a bad spirit, is rooted in Larsa’s experience. Then, as if she couldn’t answer how she was supposed to know, she asked Guerdy, “How do you know? How do you know?” She’s asking like Guerdy is making this up as a way to punk Larsa, to get her to stop this stupid fight that Larsa is on about Guerdy calling her fake.
Guerdy answers that she got a mammogram. I mean, if someone tells you they have cancer, you believe them. Well, unless you’re Meghan King Edmonds and a psychic tells you they are lying, and then you dig up the proof and expose that person. Otherwise, believe them. Guerdy is in no way making this up. After that, Guerdy tells Larsa, more than once, to not tell the other women because she wants to break the news herself.
That’s when we get the screen card saying she’s going to blab. Now, it’s one thing if she just told her friends Zama and Yani, who sound like they should both be characters on a children’s television program. I can see a world where you are upset, and you vent to a friend who doesn’t know Guerdy, “My friend told me she had cancer today, and I’m really worried about her.” Okay, I get it. But even the way Larsa tells them is rooted in her own experience. “I feel so bad,” she tells them as if her feelings should be the major concern here. “I had such a stressful day.” Um, how bad does Guerdy feel? How about how stressful her days have been?
Larsa doesn’t leave it there. When the rest of the crew arrives, she tells them all that Guerdy has cancer, and they all erupt with a simultaneous, “WHAT?!” Lisa is asking what stage it is and if she will be all right. Larsa doesn’t know because this isn’t her news to tell. Also, when Guerdy told her, she was probably only mildly listening and didn’t get the specifics. When Alexia arrives later, Larsa tells her separately and then says, “I didn’t know what to say to her. It was horrible.” Yet again, Larsa shows no sympathy or empathy (maybe Erika Jayne’s therapist can teach her). She’s just talking about how horrible it was for her.
This all happened at the coming-home party Larsa had for Marcus after he was gone for only five days. I get that you’re on a reality show, and you need excuses to get the gang together, but there was something about this party that really annoyed me. Marcus had no idea! If I come home from five days away, I only want to order pizza, smoke a joint, and catch up on Bravo while lounging in my underclothes. If I come home after a trip and my house is filled with people preventing me from any activities, there will be a temper tantrum worse than a 4-year-old in the middle of Target whose mother won’t let her play with a whole Scotch Tape display.
Also on bad behavior at the party is Lisa. The women ask her for an update on her life, and she just starts screaming about Lenny and how horrible he is being to her. Even as they try to change the subject, she says, “Wait, let me tell you one more thing about Lenny.” Later, we see her at her house, not paying full attention to her children because she’s on the phone bitching to her new boyfriend, Mounty Jody the Canadian Cavalry, about Lenny. She says, “I could get a therapist, but that’s what I have Jody for.” Um, sis, not for much longer if you keep this up. Get the therapist. Bitch to your girlfriends. Heck, call me up and bitch to me. I’d let you do it for free, but this is a sure way to run a man off. I get that she’s in the middle of a terrible divorce, but she’s letting her Lenny hatred cloud everything. Even she admits she can’t show the kids as much attention because she’s so busy screaming about their dad. And how heartbreaking was it to hear her daughter say, “Yeah, we know” amid the complaining!
For the rest of the episode, most of the women were off on their own. Julia went to go learn opera and sang so badly that her dog, Zorro, is now deaf in both ears and blind in all three of his eyes, including his Canine Chakra. Dr. Nicole went yacht shopping with her hot bear husband and talked about how she wants a second baby, which is already in the oven. Kiki didn’t know what a BJ was but did the best impersonation of an uncircumcised penis I’ve ever seen.
That just leaves our Guerdy, the one who has been so wronged and doesn’t even know it yet. She goes for a walk in the park with her loving (and gorgeous) husband, Russell, and asks that all the birds be removed from the park. She believes that if there are more than five birds in the vicinity, they are out to attack her. You know what? She might not be wrong. But as they walk, Guerdy is worried about her children finding out; she is upset that she would tell them and cry, which experts told her not to do. She farmed the work out to Russell, who tells her that it went well and that the kids are naturally concerned, but they’re all on her side. We’re all on her side.
It’s so powerful to see a woman like Guerdy (and a woman of color, no less) going through breast cancer so publicly, and I think about the toll that must have on her, on her mental health, on her physical health as she literally fights for her life. I like to think about all the women who will be helped by seeing Guerdy’s story — all the mammograms that people will get, all the cancer that might be detected early, all the lives that could be saved by this silly little program that we all love so much. And then I think about Russell, with his big arms and his silky butterscotch voice, telling her the thing that she most wants to hear but can’t let herself believe, the thing that Larsa should have said immediately during her fight with Guerdy: “Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. I got your back.”