[Pat] Previously, onShining Vale...
When your mom and I saw it, we fell in love with it.
[Gaynor] In other words, mom boned some rando,
-so we had to move here. -Hey, no! It's not about that.
[Pat] I'm gonna be using the attic as my writing annex.
-Oh, you're a writer? -[Kam] If we don't get
the first chapter next month, I want the advance back.
Please.
You look like you're auditioning for Pornhub.
You don't wanna be known as "that girl."
You make an age-appropriate friend, okay?
There's something very wrong with this house.
[screams]
I saw someone downstairs.
I didn't see anything. I mean, nothing unusual.
Do you think I'm going crazy?
-Patricia. -[cup shatters]
What are you doing in my house?
[eerie muffled sounds]
[eerie music]
♪ ♪
[eerie muffled sounds escalate]
[silence]
It's fucking hot.
[Roxy barks, growls]
What?
[Roxy growling]
-[footsteps approach] -[Roxy whines]
[wood creaks]
[whispering voices]
-[Roxy growling] -Gaynor?
[yip, ruff]
[Roxy growling]
-[Roxy barking] -Roxy!
Roxy?
[Roxy growling, barking]
[old-timey music playing]
♪ ♪
[breathing heavily] [whispering] Don't go in there.
[music continues]
♪ ♪
[hinges creaking]
-[music continues] -[Pat sighs/groans]
[hinges creaking]
[gasps]
Use your words, Patricia.
-[skin sizzles] -Ow!
Uh! Ow!
[panting]
[whispers] Oh, God.
[sighs]
-[alarm clanking softly] -Oh, God!
Sorry, sorry. It's a work alarm.
Oh, my God.
Sorry, let me get it. Shh, shh, shh.
-[Pat] Ohh-- -I got it.
[Pat] Ow! Are you serious?
-Ow! -[Terry] Ow. Sorry.
Shh, shh, shh, shh. Go to sleep.
[alarm stops]
[Jake] I had a bad dream.
[Pat] Seriously?
Get in.
Okay.
-[alarm chirping] -[gasps]
-[Pat] Oh, my God. -Failsafe alarm.
[chirping continues]
[Terry yawns]
[Terry] I'll get it.
[soft moody music playing]
[singer vocalizing]
♪ ♪
-[Pat] Holy fuckin' shit! -Everything okay?
Terry, remember the woman
that I saw when we first moved in?
The woman outside the window
or the woman in the family room?
-That's the same woman. -Oh.
Anyway, I don't know if she's a ghost,
but she keeps popping up in my dreams, and last night--
It's probably a stress dream. I used to have
-these fantastical dreams-- -I know, I know.
Back in business school, and you forgot to study
-for your accounting final. -It was International Finance.
-Accounting I would have aced. -Okay, well, in my dream,
she burned me with a cigarette.
-Oh, Pat. Come on. -And look--
Oh, my God. Wow!
Does it hurt if I do this?
-Ow! -Sorry. I'm sorry.
Let me see. Look at that. It's--
-What is wrong with you? -Sorry. It's probably a burn.
I just told you it was a burn.
Yeah, but I don't believe you dreamed that onto your arm.
I-I think that you were cooking bacon
and maybe some grease splattered.
When was the last time I made bacon?
When was the last time a ghost burned you with a cigarette?
It seemed so real.
Well, I just read that moving
is the second biggest cause of stress dreams, so--
What's number one?
Marital strife, I think.
Yeah.
-I'm gonna say hi to the kids. -Yeah. Let's say hi.
-Morning, kids. -Bro, you shot my nutsack off.
-[Gaynor] Fine. -[barks, whining]
Is this thing broken again?
Can we please just get a normal coffee maker?
No, no, no. It's not a prison cafeteria.
It's a little temperamental.
You just gotta play with the sweet spot--let me.
All right?
-Why are you so covered up? -Maybe I don't need to
use my body to define my self-worth.
Well, since they had to pixelate
your tenth grade class picture, I'm not buying it.
What is it? 'Cause you have a hickey?
Let me see. Do you have a tattoo?
Mom. [laughs]
-Get off of me! -[laughs]
Since when do you wear a cross?
Okay. You know, I'm allowed to have spirituality in my life.
Jesus Christ, get off my ass.
Bro, back off. [chuckles]
[Terry] Who you talking to, buddy?
Fred, a boy I met in the Oculus.
There is no boy named Fred.
Fred is the name of a 49-year-old pedophile
in dolphin shorts who's trying to groom you
to live in an ice cream van.
You wanted me to make a friend?
I made a friend. You can't have it both ways.
[Terry] Hey, hey, hey. Phelps family.
Let's all take it down about three notches, okay?
[distorted doorbell dings]
Can we please hire someone to speed up that doorbell?
Mm, yeah, what happened to our old handyman?
[Pat, softly] Okay.
[growls] Shit!
[part clattering]
It was stuck.
[Pat] I'll get it.
[eerie music plays]
♪ ♪
Hi. Is Gaynor around?
Uh, yeah. Hold on. Gaynor.
-'Sup, Ryan? -'Sup, Gaynor?
Oh, Jesus!
I'm Valerie He.
Oh, this is my mom. We live next door.
Hi, I'm Pat.
I've seen you around.
Seems our children have developed a friendship.
Yeah, we met when Gaynor was signing up
for the Chastity Club.
Hope you also signed up for the Time Travel Club.
Mm, aww.
Mom, please shut the fuck up.
Do you wanna wait in the car?
Uh, yeah.
Would you like me to take him?
Oh. Yeah.
But we have a no returns policy.
That's just a joke. He's my favorite.
I know you're not supposed to say that, but--
Ah--
Uh, Jake. Grab your stuff.
Mrs. He is gonna take you to school.
Oh, okay.
No, in real life, honey. Christ almighty.
[exhales]
It's getting closer.
-It's reached out. -I'm sorry. I can't hear you.
It senses your weakness.
Okay. Gotcha.
-Jake, let's go. -Do not give in.
Okay. Jake, now!
Have a good day at school.
-Please don't ignore this. -Okay.
Who was that? Patty make a new friend?
No. Patty met a weird fucking neighbor.
Oh, my God. Did you just feel that?
-Nope. -I'm telling you,
there's something s-seriously wrong here.
No, no, no, Pat. We've been through this.
We're not moving, Pat. We can't.
And there's nothing wrong with this house.
[hinges squeak, thud]
-[light shorts out] -[Pat gasps] Oh, my God.
No, there's--
Oh, Pat, get in here.
Look at this.
It's an old growth chart.
Aw. Daisy.
I always wish we'd done one of these with our kids.
Maybe we should start.
[Pat] I think they're done growing.
Well, then we can do us.
Mark how we shrink as we get older.
You don't think that was fucking weird
that the door just slammed?
Nope. It's a--that's a rusty spring hinge.
I bet I pop a little WD-40 on that,
there goes your ghost.
-Hah! -[screams] God, why?
[exhales]
[eerie sounds]
[Terry humming]
-Hello, old friend. -[whirs]
Honey...
you seen the lubricant?
Ah.
Motherfucker!
[Pat] I told you,
Frank must have left his drill at our old place,
and the movers packed it.
There's nothing more to it.
Right. I think it just reminds me of the time
that I hired him to fix our sink
and you had sex with him in our kitchen, so...
Terry, how are you dealing with your anger?
How do you deal with your anger?
Hey, Terry, he's just trying to help.
Sorry. I just--I'm good.
Good. Chopping wood.
I just push it all down.
[Berg] Terry, you can't just bottle it up.
Unchecked anger can build into unfiltered rage.
-Pat's seeing ghosts. -What?
Not ghosts. You make me sound like a loon.
I've seen one ghost.
It's a '50s housewife that keeps popping up.
Are you taking your anti-depressants?
Yes, I am, and they're not working.
My depression is off the fucking charts.
Are you exercising? Eating right?
Have you made any friends in town?
No, I don't think you have.
You know, I don't think he was talking to you.
[Dr. Berg] H-have you... you any of those things?
No. I don't have time. I've gotta write my book,
and I've written one paragraph since we moved in.
I keep telling her to use the local bookstore.
Free Wi-Fi when you buy a cup of coffee.
What, do you work for
the fucking Chamber of Commerce now?
-I'm just trying to help, Pat. -Hold on.
-Terry may be right. -Of course I am.
You buy a small coffee, you get free Wi-Fi.
I meant, I think it would be therapeutic for you
to get out of the house, socialize.
You think that would help my depression?
Absolutely. I'm also going to up the dosage
on your anti-depressants to 300 milligrams.
-Mm-hmm. -That sounds like a lot.
I have a number of patients
who take that dosage.
Really? Like how many? One?
[chuckles] More. More than one.
Three?
Less than three.
[school bell rings]
I'd now like to ask any new members
of the Chastity Club to introduce themselves.
[organ music playing]
It's cool. Go ahead.
[chuckles softly] Okay.
Uh...
my first sexual experience was, like, pretty typical.
It was mostly just hand stuff with our upstairs neighbor.
He was terrible at it.
It was like he was trying to find his keys at the bottom
of a very full gym bag.
Anyway, I mostly did it because he loved playing reggaeton
really loud, which made my mom lose her shit.
Eventually, I had real deal [quietly] "P-in-V" sex with him
and wasn't great either,
[normally] but I guess that's on me, right?
So, uh, yeah, now I'm like totally ready to wait
-for the right person. -[student clears throat]
Yeah. Good to be here.
Just your name and grade.
Gaynor. 11th.
[student clears throat]
We're gonna take a five-minute break.
[chairs squeaking]
[Kam "Cressida realized she hadn't entered the attic.
The attic had entered her..."
She fucked the house?
No. Maybe.
I-I don't know.
I was kind of outside of myself when I wrote it, so...
Well, it's certainly an attention-grabber.
I say keep going.
-Seriously? -Why not?
'Cause I was just prescribed veterinary sedatives
so I can stop being tormented by a ghost.
Artists work best when they're battling their demons.
When you wrote Cressida, you were totally
out of control, and it was a masterpiece.
Can you stop being my editor for just one minute?
I can stop being your editor forever
if you don't finish this book.
Okay. Got it.
Lose control.
Hey, maybe I should start drinking again.
No, better yet, I'll buy an eight ball
off my old coke dealer
and fuck the night manager at Howard Johnson's.
I am saying the opposite. Take control.
Use whatever you're dealing with--fatigue,
depression, guilt-- and write to that.
You could be a modern-day Sylvia Plath.
Trish, this could be your Bell Jar.
Sylvia Plath went insane writing The Bell Jar.
And then she stuck her head in the oven.
Well, don't go full Plath.
Although I could market the shit out of that.
Just stop right before that.
Use it to get the creative juices going
and keep it filthy-- that's your brand.
-Thank you. -You know, to be honest,
I thought this book was gonna be about your affair.
I could never do that to Terry.
I mean, we moved three hours away
so he would never have to see Frank.
[door buzzes]
-[static crackles] -[Frank] This is Frank.
This is Terry Phelps.
You had sex with my wife.
I have your drill.
[door clicks, buzzes]
[Terry panting]
Dude, it's only like three flights.
You should not be that gassed.
[panting] Sh...shut up, Frank.
So, um, you here to beat me up?
No. I'm here because...
[labored breathing]
I guess I'm here because of what happened with you and Pat.
-The sex. -Yes, the sex, Frank.
I thought I was over it,
and then I come across that stupid drill of you--
[thunk]
I just wanna understand how it happened.
I mean, did you plan it?
Did you even think you were gonna fix the sink?
Because, you know, you charged me for it.
[Frank] I didn't plan it. I came over to fix the sink
and Pat started crying, so I gave her my shirt.
How is that your first instinct?
It just was!
Next thing you know, she starts kissing me,
and it happened.
Also, I have an automatic billing system, so--
You're saying she made the first move?
Because I don't believe you.
She was in a really bad place. All right?
I tried to comfort her, and I got caught up.
[Terry sighs]
All right, so...
w-w-what up?
Do...
Do you...love her?
No, man.
I'm still trying to learn how to love myself.
[chuckling] Oh, my God. Do you have any idea
how pathetic that i--
Wow.
Is that--is that Italian?
Yeah, man. Picked it up in Milan.
Wow.
-Never seen anything like it. -[Frank] Yeah.
It's got the deluxe LatteCrema System
for a perfect flat white every time.
-Yeah? -[laughing] Yeah.
I'm taking it with me, Frank.
-[small laugh] What? -Yeah.
No-no, Terry, that's--that's off limits.
Yeah, well, so was my wife.
[grunting softly]
-Uh, want me to help you? -No.
It-it's fragile, man.
All right, grab the other side.
-[Frank] Careful. -[grunts]
-Kids doing all right? -Yeah, Jake's good.
[chimes ringing]
[soft whooshing]
[chimes continue ringing]
[singer vocalizing softly]
Fuck it.
Here you are. Enjoy.
The Bell Jarisn't really a book you enjoy.
It's more of a journey into the abyss.
Enjoy.
Pat!
Oh, I'm--I gotta go.
-[groans softly] -[Robyn] Have a seat.
-Hi, Robyn. -Hi, Pat.
Ladies, this is Pat Phelps.
She bought the big house on Elm.
-Oh, wow. -I see.
What? Is something wrong with the house?
Of course not!
It is a treasure.
Oh, I'm so rude.
Pat, this is the Shining Vale Ladies Auxiliary Club.
-Emily Harris. -Cherise Nathan.
Mrs. Stephen Edwards.
-Pat is a writer. -Ooh.
Anything I would have read?
Mm, I seriously doubt it, Mrs. Stephen Edwards.
Remember Cressida: Unbound?
That dirty little book that was passed around years ago?
That was Pat.
Oh, of course!
My neighbor used it once. [chuckles]
I got it as a gag gift from my niece.
I'm exhausted. I'm-I'm gonna go.
Pat, we'd love to, um, get you more involved.
-Maybe with the, uh, bake sale? -I don't bake.
What about for Parent-Teacher night?
I don't parent.
Ladies.
Bye!
[Roxy barking, growling]
Roxy, what is that?
Roxy, drop it!
Roxy.
[moody music]
♪ ♪
[breathes heavily] Oh, God.
It's okay. I just had a bad dream.
Come here. It's okay.
Good girl, it's okay. It's okay.
-[whining] -It's okay.
[uneasy music]
What the hell?
[dramatic tone]
Mm.
Says Szechuan, but I'm-- I'm tasting Hunan.
-What do you think, Pat? -Honestly, honey,
it just tastes like really shitty Chinese food.
-Mm, could be shitty Cantonese. -I'm sorr--
Could we have one family meal where we don't curse?
Gaynor, if you're trying to get back at me
by dating a church guy, I gotta tell ya, I don't care.
We're just hanging out, trying to meet people.
And you've raised me
with literally no social skills.
-[distorted doorbell rings] -[Roxy yipping]
-Fucking doorbell. -[clank]
That's Fred. Can he come for dinner?
You gave our address to a child molester?
Jake, we talked about online safety.
-[knocking] -You're gonna be so embarrassed
when he isn't a pedophile.
Don't worry. I'll handle it.
I'm going to pray.
[Pat] Good.
Pray you don't get pregnant with Ryan
'cause you'll have to keep it!
[tense guitar chord plays]
♪ ♪
Fucking kidding me?
-Are you Jake? -Are you Frank?
-What? -What?
-No, no, no. I'm not-- -No. I'm not Jake.
-Fred! -Jake. What's up, bro?
Bro, check out this portal I found.
-[laughing] Okay. -[laughing] Okay. Okay.
-He's Fred. -And that's Jake.
[both laughing]
I-I'm so sorry.
I-I thought you were a pedo grooming my son.
No. Not a groomer. Not a groomer.
Thought the same thing about your kid.
Hey, come on, the name Jake, it's a little pedo-like, so...
Eh, Fred sounds like a kiddie diddler.
[laughing] LOL.
I mean, when I saw your house I was like,
"It puts the lotion on its skin," you know?
I love this house.
I mean, I'd kill to live here.
I'm Laird, by the way.
-Terry. How are you? -I'm good. I'm good.
All right, well, we're just sitting down to dinner, so...
Thank you. That's so kind.
-[Laird chuckling] -To your left.
[Laird] Oh, thank you.
[chuckling] Wow.
-[second floor thudding] -[laughing] Oh.
-This is awesome. -Yeah.
It's so hard to make new friends at this age.
Well, Jake is very particular about who he connects with.
Historically, they've either been way younger
or in the custodial field.
[laughing softly]
But I, uh, I meant me.
I-I'm so sorry. Did I overstep?
No. No, no, no, no, I--
We've actually talked about meeting friends here in town.
Is there a Mrs. Laird?
Technically.
But she's seeing someone else right now.
Oh, very, very sorry.
You know, the worst part is,
not only did I lose my wife,
-I lost my best friend. -[Pat] Oh, God.
She was fucking my best friend. [sobs]
Um, I'm gonna go clean up.
[Roxy barks, whines]
No. You don't want any part of this.
[Roxy barks]
[Roxy whines]
[uneasy music]
♪ ♪
Hey, this Laird guy is actually pretty funny
when he's not crying.
-Everything okay? -[Pat] No.
This book keeps appearing out of nowhere.
That's not that odd.
We have like 300 copies lying around our den.
This isn't my copy.
Someone dog-eared the pages and- and circled words.
Uh, "atheists," "sweaty," "dildo."
Someone's trying to tell me something.
Probably that we shouldn't leave this book around
-when we have kids over. -Okay.
You know what, never mind. I just--it does--I'm fine.
Oh, no, no. I wanna know what's going on.
No, you don't.
You're just gonna mansplain it away
with some logical explanation.
That's not mansplaining.
-Mansplaining... -Mm-hmm.
...happens to be
that there's usually a logical explanation.
Well, what if the logical explanation
-is that I'm losing my mind? -No.
Yeah, Kam read the page that I wrote in the attic--
which I don't even remember writing--
and she said it was great.
She said, "Embrace the crazy."
Kam said that? That's fantastic!
No, it's not! I can't afford to go crazy.
I mean, you heard Dr. Berg.
If you explode and I go nuts,
what's gonna happen to the kids?
Honey, the kids are gonna be fine, all right?
And I am not gonna explode.
In fact,
I did a little retail therapy today.
Voilà.
-Is that Frank's? -Yeah.
I went over to that son of--
how do you know that's Frank's?
What?
Oh, my God!
When were you at his apartment?
It was a part of that terrible week.
I didn't wanna believe that you kissed him first.
Now, I find out that you fucked him for a week?
You said it was one time!
-It-it was a one-time event. -An event?
What? Like a Toyotathon?
It was one affair. It lasted a week.
What difference does it make?
Because once is a mistake.
A week is...you made a choice.
-A really bad choice. -That's right.
And I would do anything--anything
if I could go back and do things differently.
I wish I wasn't home.
I wish that-that I'd taken that Pilates class
that you gave me for my birthday.
I paid for three years, you went once.
What do you want me to say?
I fuck everything up. I know that.
I fucked up our family. I fucked up our marriage.
And I'm trying so hard not to fuck up what we have left,
but it's really, really hard.
And I'm just so tired. [crying]
Pat, come-come here.
I don't want to.
[Terry] Patty.
No.
[Terry] Come here.
Hey. Listen to me.
We're Phelps.
-We're unfuckable. -[laughs]
I'm sorry you were so sad. I...
I should've been paying better attention.
I'm sorry about the Pilates.
Yeah, it says right there in the contract,
got to cancel by fax or you lose the--
Just let me know when it starts to get weird,
and I'll leave.
-Right about now. -Oh.
[Pat sighs]
Kam is right.
This really is a masterpiece.
[sighs] Good night, sweetheart.
[dramatic musical sting]
Use your words, Patricia.
Use your words.
[Roxy whines]
Use my words.
I'm using my words.
What words?
[edgy music plays]
♪ ♪
[unsettling music builds]
[hinges creaking]
[floorboards creak]
[old-timey upbeat music plays]
♪ ♪
[Pat gasps]
Good news, Patricia. You're not crazy.
[whistling]