Last week’s episode of Married to Medicine Houston ended with a toast and renewed friendships, and this week brings with it the promise of a Passover Seder commemorating liberation and mercy. Everything is right in the Bayou City. No drama. No gossiping. No arrogant Lebanese chauvinists. That will come later.
For now, the ladies are hard at work operating, consulting with patients and, in Dr. Ashandra’s case, ensuring the new Hillcroft Health & Wellness Center is properly outfitted to meet the needs of a hardworking and sassy dentist. She brings in an equipment specialist who says it will take about half a million dollars to get the dental area in working order. I sense a charity event in our future.
Then we catch up with Rachel and James who are at home getting ready for bed. Rachel says she wants “iPhone lingerie,” because James is always on his phone, and she wants him to hold her like he holds his iPhone. And now I have a new favorite pickup line: “Hold me like you hold your iPhone, baby.” Ah, modern romance.
James spots Cindi Rose’s “apology box” on a chair in the bedroom and asks about it. Rachel grudgingly recounts the meeting wherein Cindi called her anti-Semitic then invited her over for Passover. James makes the same absolutely baffled face that every viewer did upon hearing that proposition, then finishes it off with a Scooby-Doo “Rhhuuuuh?” It’s what we were all thinking, James.
“I’m sick that day,” Rachel says. “Cramps.”
Speaking of lady probs, Dr. Sato is at the fertility specialist, and she now says she’s 100 percent “on board to be mommy.” This seems like a departure from her previous feelings on motherhood, but whatever. The specialist does an ultrasound and finds that she has some ovarian cysts and fewer eggs than she should, so having a baby — even with a surrogate — might not be as simple as she’d planned.
Later, Monica visits her parents’ house for a meal. Her mom makes a ton of wonderful-looking Indian food, and her father talks about how proud he is of her. I am officially ready to move in with Monica’s parents and let them feed me and tell me I’m awesome.
Monica admits that she doesn’t like to talk to her parents about her relationship with Imad because it’s so tenuous, and she doesn’t want them to judge it. I will gladly volunteer to do that for them: IT’S THE WORST. Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself.
Instead of hating on Imad, let’s spend some time with Houston’s most adorable couple, Ashandra and Ricky. They’ve gone out for date night at Boheme, and either the joint has changed since last time I ate there, or you get better service when you’re beautiful doctors, because they’re seated by a hostess and checked on multiple times by a very attentive server. I’ve never been seated by a hostess at Boheme. The server also delivers flowers from Ricky to Ashandra at the table. I’ve never gotten flowers from Ricky at Boheme, either. What am I doing wrong with my life?!
Anyway, enough about my existential crisis. Ricky is worried that Ashandra is spreading herself too thin by taking on this wellness clinic project. He’s concerned that she can’t focus fully on her career and her children and him and the clinic without something suffering. I firmly believe that if anyone can truly “do it all,” it’s Dr. A, but if I’m wrong and Ricky starts feeling neglected, I invite him to give me a call. Call me, Ricky.
Back at Casa de Maribel (sorry, James and Rachel, but we all know who calls the shots there), mama is ready to jump back into the dating pool, but so far the dating sites/apps she’s tried have been too intense. She wants something more “gentile.” Wait, she means gentle. Jews are fine. NO ONE IS ANTI-SEMITIC.
Rachel fills out a dating profile for Maribel, who lists her hobbies as follows: watching Forensic Files on TV, listening to live music, traveling and cooking, because “you gotta put cooking for men.” Thanks, Maribel. I’m taking notes. Rachel then pulls out another one of her cheesy adages, proclaiming, “When you are loved, you are a better version of yourself.” She quickly adds, “Can you imagine a better version of Maribel?” Honestly, no. No I cannot.
Shabbat dinner at the Roses
And now it’s time for Shabbat dinner at the Roses’ house. Erika and Derek get ready, but they don’t really want to go because they’re frustrated about their potential fertility issues, and also they’re resolute introverts. Oh, those sweet baby angels should have listened to their guts on this one.
Monica and Imad are also preparing for the dinner, and they have to Google “Shabbat,” as neither of them actually know what they’re preparing for.
Both couples arrive at the Roses’, and, of course, Cindi comes to the door dressed…very nice, actually. There is nary a midriff, a beret or a mound of cleavage in sight. Man, things are already getting weird.
Cindi has invited an astrologer (who goes by, simply, Herb) to the party to give her guests readings. Herb is my new favorite person, because you know he consulted his charts before dinner, saw a major celestial shitshow brewing, and thought, “I am so not missing this cosmic clusterfuck.”
At a slightly less formal gathering, Elly, Ashandra and Rachel have met up for SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS SHOTS — you get the idea. They toast “to being real” with some sort of strawberry shortcake concoction whose utter lack of strawberries highlights the irony of that statement.
Over at Shabbat dinner, things start heating up when Imad asks Herb to help him understand Monica better. Herb says Monica is ready to settle down soon, then he hones in on Imad, claiming he “wouldn’t give up his independence on a bet.” Have I mentioned Herb is a badass?
Monica says she gives Imad plenty of autonomy, calling herself a “free-spirited, liberal-thinking” woman. Imad says she’s far from that and, shocker, he’s going to tell us why.
Imad’s argument is that she wouldn’t agree to raise their potential children Muslim, to which Monica replies, “You aren’t religious.” Seems like Imad just wants his way, whether he legitimately cares about it or not. That sort of contrarian attitude stops being cute once you leave toddler-hood, buddy.
Monica acknowledges that the religion conversation is an important conversation, but they need to do it in private, not at dinner. Cut to Derek, looking awkward. Cindi, appearing uncomfortable. Erika, wishing she were anywhere but there. The random folks sitting next to Imad, cringing, but unable to look away. Herb, smiling, cause he totally knew this was gonna happen.
Monica implores Imad multiple times to stop airing their dirty laundry in public, then she walks away in a huff right as sweet ole Dr. Rose comes over to usher folks to the dessert table, seemingly oblivious to what’s going on. Imad remains seated and grins diabolically.
Back at the bar, Elly is complaining about Monica, calling her “deceptively fake.” If you’re going to be a bitch to Elly, do it to her face, not behind her back. Ashandra says the Monica she knows isn’t like that, but Elly isn’t letting go, noting that Monica “doesn’t know who she’s fucking with.” You do not fuck with an audiologist, kids.
Ashandra thinks the original reason Elly got mad was a molehill, and now we’re all staring at a mountain. To clear up any misunderstandings, she proposes a “come to Jesus meeting,” which sounds more like hell to me.
Monica is already in her own personal hell, of course, thanks to Imad. After she gets up from the table, Cindi and Erika run after her to comfort her, cause that’s what your best bitches do. With Monica out of hearing range, Imad continues talking to the unfortunate group of people at the table about his personal problems with his girlfriend and her family. Awwwwkward.
Eventually, Monica and her posse return (you can see the look of relief on Derek’s face), and Imad accuses Monica of leaving when he was trying to talk about something important. Again, not the venue, dude.
Herb tries to interpret the situation for Imad, telling him Monica feels like he’s her karma, which makes me wonder what terrible things Monica must have done in her past life to deserve him. Herb says if Imad doesn’t learn how to work with Monica, he’ll lose her. Monica emphatically confirms this. Derek takes a big gulp of wine, and the dude next to Imad looks uncomfortably down at his lap. Cindi smiles awkwardly and sips some more wine. Shabbat Shalom, everybody!
Now, as if this weren’t enough drama for one episode, remember: Maribel is back on the market. She prepares for a date upstairs with Rachel, while James greets a potential suitor at the door like a leery father. He admits that parenting Maribel is probably preparing him and Rachel to be parents of their own child someday. If kids entered the world as cheeky, older drinking buddies, I might be inclined to have some.
The next morning, Maribel reveals she won’t be moving out on her own any time soon, as the date was “horrible.” The chemistry wasn’t there, and he didn’t compliment her enough. She also wants hot sex every night. Girl, you and me both.
The episode ends on a somewhat boring note, with Monica recounting Imad’s terrible behavior at Shabbat to her friend Neera. The most interesting aspects of this meeting are Neera’s earrings, which seem to be extra plates in case she ends up somewhere without proper china, and the fact that Monica vows to be a lesbian if things don’t work out with Imad. You know what also sounds better than dating Imad? A mail-order husband. Nunhood. Seppuku.
Next week, Monica finally gives Imad an ultimatum, then she and Elly have a showdown at a nice restaurant surrounded by all their friends, because if we learned anything this episode, it’s that the best way to fight is very, very publicly.