First of all, worst island party ever. The only people who showed were the puffy and mysterious Cat and hottie trash bomb Tomas. After her wild phone blunder last episode—Money Can Buy You a Network Translator: Remix!—she was playing it cool. The only time her smooth white feathers look ruffled was when Ramona called Tomas a silly willy and got a little too close for her liking. “Ramona don’t get too friendly now!” growled LuAnn, going for a teasing tone. But Ramona couldn’t help herself so she followed the 29-year-old around the party, darting from behind corners and grinning wildly at him. “Yes, so, did you have fun here last night?!” she’d say, popping open her eyes. And Tomas would just bat his mascaraed lashes with his phone to his ear, listening to the dial tone while Ramona hectored him. “I wasn’t looking to nail LuAnn to the wall,” Ramona assured the audience. “I was just playing with her.” Which is probably just what LuAnn said to Jacques before they clapped their bedroom lights off after the wine tasting event. Tomas seemed to be waging an internal war. Would his horniness trump his increasing disdain for these women? He wearily suggested a menage a sept, which Ramona quickly agreed to though I imagine she thought he was talking about a fine bottle of white.
LuAnn was steering clear of Tomas—”last night I did it Italian-style!” she insisted grossly to whomever would listen—so he was forced to make other women swoon. “I loved Carole,” he told Sonja and Carole of a failed past love. “She was my Brigitte Bardot.” “Ohhhhh!” the women moaned, like Rosie O’Donnell and Meg Ryan watching An Affair to Remember. “But we are, we separated.” “Ohhhhh,” they sighed. “Which one of these lucky ladies is going to take home the greasy prize?” said Heather in the line of the night. As if it was ever in doubt! A few hours later Heather walked in on Tomas unloading baguettes into Sonja’s back wagon. After smashing her face into a door, witnessing LuAnn’s shenanigans the night before and now this, she returned home from the island with a raging case of PTSD.
The women were all in stellar moods the next day aboard the Stealin’ Sun yacht. Hats off to Heather who had gracefully been deflecting any Ramonattack all vacation. At one point Ramona asked Heather and Sonja to lean in close and say cheese. “Heather’s allowed to be in the vacation pictures?” marveled Sonja. “She likes me now,” said Heather, which Sonja laughed off. “That’s just today.” Sonja spent the day resting her bottom. The boat staff held up towels lest the original Housewives get too hot while they snacked in the sun. Heather and Carole had a human conversation on the bow of the boat about Carole’s husband’s death. “Sometimes I wish Anthony had left me a letter,” said Carole. Heather was neither overly familiar nor did she turn the conversation to her. Sanity alert!
Cut to Aviva in a crisp white blouse and pink blazer shaking nervously to the rhythms of Chaka Khan on a plane. Insanity levels restored.
NEXT: Carole needs a vacation from her vacation.