‘And Just Like That …’ Season 2 Episode 10 Recap: All Too Familiar

Season 2, Episode 10:

Is Carrie going to have to buy back her old apartment yet again, after a third failed attempt to move on from that place and formally co-habitate with one of her two great loves? This is all feeling a little too familiar.

Recall, if you will, “Sex and the City” Season 4, in which Carrie and Aidan break up after he buys Carrie’s original place, and she has to borrow Charlotte’s engagement ring to buy it back from him.

Then, in “Sex and the City” movie No. 1, Carrie once again sells her apartment to funnel money into “heaven on Fifth” with Big, only to have him stand her up at the altar, leaving Miranda and Samantha to negotiate its repurchase from their lounge chairs in Mexico.

Well, here we go again. Maybe, anyway. Although it isn’t explicitly stated, it is clear that the sale hasn’t closed on either Carrie’s new Gramercy Park place or her O.G. haunt. When Seema freaks out to Carrie over a “disaster,” Carrie immediately thinks it must be about the new apartment. It’s not, but that indicates something about the sale isn’t done.

Likewise, Carrie is about to hold a swanky “Last Supper” event at her old place, so it must technically still be hers. (Also, Carrie and Seema still apparently hold the power to kick Carrie’s neighbor and buyer, Lisette, out of the place when they want to eat sushi and gossip on their own. It’s obviously not officially Lisette’s apartment yet.)

All this may prove convenient if Aidan does, in fact, break our hearts one more time by deciding he simply can’t spend time in New York, or with Carrie, anymore. There’s no way Carrie is going to be stuck holding that four-bedroom bag.

Carrie’s reason for worry is pretty heartbreaking. We find Aidan back in Virginia, sobbing in his car because his son Wyatt (Logan Souza) has broken several bones in a drunk-driving accident, which Aidan feels he could have prevented if he had been around. “I should have been there,” Aidan tells Carrie, weeping.

It’s the most gut-punching scene in a whole series of them, from an episode that shines a light on just how unbearably hard it sometimes is to be a parent. It’s especially true if you’re a working mother.

That’s a title Charlotte can finally claim for the first time, and at Kasabian Gallery, she is, as her Gen Z co-workers tell her, “slaying.” Charlotte is pouring herself into this job, staying late some nights and, for a change, is not at her family’s beck and call, at the ready to serve every meal and hand-deliver every forgotten notebook. When she makes a six-figure art sale to the singer Sam Smith, there is no way that isn’t being celebrated. So she properly parties with her work pals and stumbles home, sloshed, to her frazzled family.

Charlotte may be lit, but she is with it enough to deliver a message that her family, and maybe every family across America, needs to hear: “I was a person before you. I was a person before all of you … You need to get that, OK? And get it together.”

Eloquent? No. Poignant? Yes, indeed. Charlotte is done rescuing everyone in that house all day every day. This is her time.

It’s exactly the “time” Lisa thought she was evolving into. She says exactly this to Herbert as she tosses and turns in bed. Her career is at its highest point. With a 10-episode deal with PBS on the horizon, she is about to step into a pinnacle moment.

But she is unexpectedly pregnant, and as a mom of three already, she knows what that means. Despite Herbert’s promises to help, it simply won’t happen. The bulk of the child-rearing, and all the expectations that surround it, will fall to her because who in their right mind would expect the new city comptroller to interrupt his busy schedule to give a bottle? Despite Lisa’s work being just as worthy and as time-consuming as Herbert’s, she, just like Charlotte, will be the one called on whenever anyone in the family needs something. And babies have a lot of needs.

It is worth emphasizing that Lisa apparently asked Herbert to get a vasectomy eight years ago, after their last child was born, but he didn’t. He says he thought Lisa might change her mind about wanting another baby. He thought he knew better than she did. He was wrong.

Lighthearted as this show has mostly been in its sophomore season, it must be stated that the commentary laced throughout this episode about the patriarchal oppression faced by even wealthy, connected and variously privileged women at home feels especially pointed in the year of “Barbie.” I’ll be thinking about that all week. Along with these …

Things still taking up space in my brain

• Usually, it’s the older people in relationships who think they have things to teach their younger partners, but in the case of Anthony and Giuseppe, the reverse is true. After a lifetime of playing a very specific role in bed, Anthony might soon be trying out something new.

• And speaking of trying new things, the trajectory that Stanford’s life has apparently taken is absolutely wild. I’m all for honoring the memory of Willie Garson, who so heartwarmingly and hilariously played Stanford before dying at age 57 during the production of Season 1. But I refuse to believe that the man who gleefully sipped Flirtinis and called himself Rick9+ in cybersex chat rooms became a monk. No.

• After that horrible stand-up set in which Che absolutely eviscerated Miranda and the integrity of their relationship, Carrie should have uninvited Che from the “Last Supper” dinner party. Sure, Che is a comedian, and Miranda wasn’t supposed to be at Che’s show. She wasn’t supposed to hear any of that. But she was, and she did, and Carrie shouldn’t expect one of her dearest friends to then sit across a table and break bread with someone who was willing to rip her to shreds in public.

• Buying that stroller for her estranged husband’s new baby is not the own Nya thinks it is. (And Miranda clearly knows that.)

• No matter how rich a character is, I will never find it believable when someone willingly destroys her own cellphone, as Charlotte does when she thoughtlessly flings hers into a pitcher of margaritas and then cracks up about it. Human beings in the real world just don’t do that.

• I couldn’t help but notice that the reason Steve now has a new little restaurant by the shore is because he was sitting on a bench in Coney Island wondering, “Where did my baby go?” If you know, you know.