Play Date

6 Missy.

She tip-toes to the door. Runs her fingers across the metal lock. Tests it several times, landing on locked.

Once her privacy is guaranteed, she deposits her suitcase's contents into the dresser. Gingerly tucks Squiggle into the suitcase. Closes and locks the latches. Stows the suitcase under the bed.

In the kitchen, Riley puts the finishing touches on lunch. "I think we made a good choice," he tells Paige.

"In general, or with Missy?" Paige asks as she discovers Missy has arrived in stealth. "Who has been standing there who knows how long?" Riley turns to Missy.

"Hey! All settled in?"

"Yes, sir." She is so polite.

"Do you like your room?" Paige asks.

"Yes, Mrs. Welphelt."

"Wow," Paige says, "does that sound ancient coming out of an eleven-year-old mouth."

"Have a seat, Missy," Riley says. "What can I get you to drink?"

"Juice, please. But milk is fine." Riley pretends to study the refrigerator's interior, knowing full well they have neither.

"How about some mineral water for now and let's make a grocery list while we eat?"

Missy stares at her plate.

"Is something wrong?" Paige asks.

"I don't know what this is."

"That," Riley says with pride, "is charred kale with quinoa, goat cheese, and asparagus ribbons."

There is no way in hell an eleven-year-old will get that down her throat. Missy offers a more realistic suggestion.

"May I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, please?"

Cut to The Whole Foods on Fairfax and a shopping cart loaded with the world's most expensive kids' food. Paige examines a jar of peanut butter. "No GMOs, no added sugar." Missy is dubious.

"I eat Skippy." That sends Riley down memory lane.

"Man, I haven't had Skippy since college," he reminisces.

"Sorry," Paige breaks the spell, "but 'Bad Mommy' has to tell you that they don't sell Skippy here. How about we give this nice organic one a try?" That only leaves Missy and Riley pouting.

As Paige and Missy help Riley load reusable grocery bags into the Maserati's trunk, Missy drops a new bomb without trying.

"Is your house near my new school?"

"Your new what's that?" Riley asks. He never gave Missy's education a thought while concocting the plan to rent a kid to help get them back in the employment loop. From the look on Paige's face, it eluded her as well.

Hal's house, in the open concept: Connery plays a video game just loud enough to make ears bleed. Hal is in another room. His iWatch has informed him he has an incoming call from Riley. Too bad he left the phone in the room where Connery now occupies space.

"Hey, Riley," Hal answers. "Hold on." He yells to his offspring, "Connery, you're doing a great job, but will you please turn that down so I can hear the phone?" Burdened, Connery turns the game off and tosses the controller across the room as he storms out. "Thank you," Hal says then turns his attention to his call. "What's up? You got a what?!?"

Thirty-three minutes later, the Welphelt's dining room looks a little like an inquisition. Missy sits on one side of the dining table, opposite Riley, Paige, and Hal. Paige takes notes in a laptop as Hal questions Missy.

"So, Missy," he says, "Do you have any favorite subjects at school?" Missy answers him in a child-like voice.

"Well, I enjoy spelling and finger paints." Then she leans in, looking Hal dead in the eye, and deepens her tone. "But my passion is in the stock market. And I'd like to learn as many languages as possible. I think it would be handy to speak Arabic and Chinese, don't you?" Having handed Hal's ass to him, she turns to Paige and Riley. "May I be excused? I'd like to read before bed."

"Of course," Paige says. "We'll check on you soon."

"Very nice to meet you," Missy tells Hal on her exit. Hal can't help but chuckle at her bitch slap.

"Wow. Smart as a whip, that one. You can't send her to just any school."

"What do you suggest?" Riley asks.

"Buckler. Everybody goes to Buckler." Paige Googles it and gasps.

"Are you kidding me? Thirty-five thousand-dollars per year? Plus a two thousand dollar application fee?"

"That's insane," Riley adds. But Hal makes good rebuttal points.

"How much do you two drop every year on dinners, and cars, and your wardrobe to further your career?" More than they should have the past two years, given the dismal return on their investment.

"That's ended," Paige says.

"We're not exactly rolling in it, Hal," Riley says. "If we could afford to do this, we wouldn't need to do this." Hal paces and thinks.

"All right," he says. "The principal's daughter is an 'actress.' I'll give her a walk-on, and see how much he'll shave off the tuition."

"A walk-on?" Riley says. "You cheap bastard." Paige turns up the heat.

"Remind me Hal, who took one for the team at your bachelor party?" Hal can't believe she went there.

"Still playing that card, Paige? Okay—I'll give her a three-episode arc. But that's it. Not a recurring."