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“Rizzoli & Isles” Subtext Recap (7.11): A Very Wrong Rizzoli Engagement

Previously on Rizzoli & Isles: Maura reveals a secret not-so-ex-ex husband. Jane reveals her FBI job offer. And then there’s a divorce party because why not.

We start with an incredibly disrespectful funeral. Is this an ominous metaphor for how the show will treat its loyal fans here at the very end? Cavalier family members drop their grandma’s casket and then an additional, and might I add naked, body rolls out with it. Whoops.

Maura and Mama Rizzoli are waiting for Jane at Jane’s place. I know I always hang out at my BFF’s house without her and with her mother because that’s normal friend behavior. Mama R is trying to pump Maura for info on Jane’s big “news.” See, a mother always knows who to go to for info. And she knows any and all news on Jane must go through Maura. So is it written, so shall it be.

Jane comes down the stairs and immediately confronts Maura for spilling the beans. Aw, man, I’ll even miss Bad Reactionary Girlfriend Jane. Maura says she would never because she is always in Good Confidence-Keeping Girlfriend mode. So Jane finally tells her mama the big news: She is taking that FBI teaching job in Quantico.

Jane pretends to be happy. Maura pretends to be happy. But Mama R cuts through the bullshit and is like, dude; you’re moving away from your wife and family? WTF? She is, as we all are, perplexed Jane would move 500 miles away from everyone she loves. Maura corrects her that it’s actually 343 miles — not that anyone is counting or has already pre-programmed it into her GPS settings or anything.

She then helpfully tells Mama R it’s “seven hours and seven minutes via Route 15.” So, not only has she programmed it into her GPS she has memorized the exact route and drive time. Raise your hand if you’re pretty sure Maura has already driven the route as a dry run for her soon-to-be every weekend sojourns to see Jane.

Then Maura starts talking up Washington D.C. and all the great museums, exhibits and programs she plans to drag Jane to during their weekend visits. Oh, Janey, you can run away from your feelings, but you can never run away from Dr. Maura Isles’ adorableness. But, sadly, it will be more difficult for her to “touch anything” she wants in the FBI, as Mama R claims. Like, alas, no more late-night Female Boob Inspector sessions.

While the team is checking out the dead coffin crasher, a party crasher of another kind returns. It’s Tommy Rizzoli—the formerly wayward Rizzoli turned doting father. Wow, now all that’s left to do is bring back Papa Rizzoli and the ghost of Senior Criminalist Susie Chang.

He is back because Lydia left him and Mama R immediately tells him he can move into Jane’s place. Well, again, Susie is dead, so someone has to pick up the Captain Cockblock mantle. But, come on Mama R, it’s particularly cruel moving Tommy and Tommy Jr. in right before Jane leaves for D.C.

Jane, who is blissfully oblivious to the familial horde about to descend on her and Maura’s love nest, chats with Korsak about Viking funerals. I get it—the show is ending. This is the end. Fini.

At the funeral home, they realize their dead guy is none other than the funeral director himself. Naturally our first red herring—and I mean red, like blood red—is the victim’s sister who co-owns the business with him.

Maura, meanwhile, is still working at Hope’s clinic. Apparently they didn’t have the budget to bring back Hope herself, but could afford a lesser Rizzoli. Maura encounters a Latino family whose young child is suffering from a terminal illness. She says the prognosis is out of her hands, and so they pray to “much higher hands than yours.”

OK, show, we’re going to get deep into religion in the last three episodes ever? Seriously? I mean, I know you put your pinky toe in with all that Jane and the confessional stuff. But really, now? Can’t they just bicker adorably and catch bad guys and snuggle on the couch like big lesbian Jesus intended?

So, anyway —blah blah blah case stuff. The dead mortuary guy was trying to sell his business fast without telling his sister. I’m going to miss blah-blah-blahing my way through the “plots” of this show. I really am. Korsak uncovers the real story, which is that Jane is leaving for the FBI. He got a call for a background check.

He says he’ll miss her. His voice cracks a little. Look, I’d feel sorrier for the guy if I didn’t know Bruce McGill was the narrator for Donald Trump‘s new national TV ad. Oh, Korsak, how could you? HOW COULD YOU?

Jane goes to seek the comfort of Maura’s calming “I’m With Her” presence. You just know during the primaries they got into a tiff about Maura wanting to slap one of those rainbow H stickers on the back of her Prius. But Jane didn’t want it to get political, plus you know Kent was probably a Bernie Bro and would have been insufferable about it.

They share some sympathetic eye sex over a dead body—have to get in these precious moments while they still can—thinking about Kent’s more recent “You should really check out Jill Stein” lectures. Then Maura tells Jane about the family at the clinic who is praying for her. Jane tells her at least they weren’t trying to pray away the gay—so, you know—progress. Maura agrees, but then goes off on a rant about how it is ridiculous that while marriage equality is now legal federally, people can still get fired for simply being gay in too many states.

At the Dirty Robber, Mama R is giving Tommy the hard sell about moving back to Boston. What’s that saying? One Rizzoli closes, another Rizzoli opens? Though, as far as spinoff potential goes, I’m not sure Rizzoli & The Plumbers Union can attract a big enough audience.

Frankie finds out Jane’s news, too. Seriously, Jane, you didn’t think the FBI would call everyone you knew for background checks? I mean, I guess I shouldn’t expect a person who has resisted coming out to her family all these years to be totally open and honest about her personal life. But, come on, give them a little warning.

Korsak asks Maura how she is doing. See, everyone is concerned about what this will mean for their relationship—everyone. She says she is “struggling” with it. So are we, girl, so are we.

Later that night, the Rizzoli siblings get together for pizza, and Jane says, “You guys, I’ve missed this.” I automatically assume she means the pizza because that’s what eating low carb does to one’s brain. Jane says she is sorry about his marriage not working out, and he tells her maybe the Rizzolis “aren’t the marrying kind.” Dude, you know same-sex marriage is legal now. You know that. Stop being so dense.

The next day Jane checks to see how Maura’s crisis of faith is going. The child is doing slightly better, but she still doesn’t know how she will face her family. Jane says she is the perfect person to help them because of her compassion and courage. And then they have the longest, sweetest eye sex.

And then, verbatim:

Maura: What am I gonna do when you’re not here?

Jane: You’ll pick up the phone. As will I.

[Both pause to wordlessly acknowledge how much phone sex sucks.]

Maura: It’s not the same.

Jane: No, it’s not. But we’ll get through it like we always do.

[Both pause to wordlessly consider the best camera angles and lighting for their forthcoming Skype sex.]

Maura: Together?

Jane: I was going to say with wine. But, yeah, together.

And then they have like three more hours of sustained eye sex and another six hours of the real thing.

So now the team has a serial killer with a taste for embalming and off-the-books burials on their hands. Nina traces all the victims back to the same modeling agency, Pence Modeling Agency to be exact. Ah, so I see someone is trolling McGill’s preferred presidential candidate with a little dig at his VP. I mean, like Jane and Maura would ever support an anti-LGBT bigot like Mike Pence.

Maura meets with the sick child’s family again and, surprise, her condition has miraculously improved. Miracles are real! Maybe Jane and Maura will move together to Maine after all. We’ve just got to believe!

The case leads them to a photographer who works at the agency. They trace him to a shoot at the local farmer’s market, and it’s time for Det. Jane Rizzoli to spring into action. I like that for one of her no-doubt final foot pursuits she is just letting the mane fly all Wonder Woman style. Though, of course, I do hope the Ponytail of Sexy Justice makes at least one more appearance before this is all over. And the Aviators.

Case closed so now it’s Big Gayzzoli Ending time, right? Well, first we have to get through a little Straightzzoli. Fine, it’s cute Straightzzoli, so I’ll allow it. Frankie takes Nina up to the roof to look at his big telescope. Shut up, not like that.

It’s actually rather lovely and romantic. Under the twinkling constellation of Cassiopeia, the African queen, he spontaneously asks Nina to marry him. And she gleefully agrees. Hey, other Det. Rizzoli, look how it’s done. Ask and she’ll say, “I do,” too.

So now all the Rizzolis are having a family meal at the Dirty Robber. Everyone is all laughs and smiles except Maura, who Jane notices is a little down. It’s because you’re moving 343 miles away, you big ninny. Maura tries to cover and pretends she is just having a hard time accepting the reason for her patient’s sudden improvement.

Jane knows what must be done. She tells Maura to come with her and leads her away from the party. No one at said party thinks this is odd because we all know Jane and Maura slip off together all the time. They’ve just learned to expect and ignore it.

Jane takes Maura to her favorite make-out spot. Then she engages Maura in the “What if…?” game. What if her apartment didn’t burn down? What if Maura’s brain injury hadn’t happened? What if she hadn’t stayed in the closet all these years?

Jane tells her everything happens for a reason, and we’re all part of a bigger plan. So, you know, stop pressuring her about the closet stuff. She’ll do it when she’s good and ready. Jane says this helps her get through the hard stuff, like leaving. But Maura says she’ll need more science to help her get through Jane leaving.

And then they have like 17 more hours of eye sex. Yeah, they never went back for that bucatini.

And now for your #gayzzoli tweets of the week. I know, I know—that wasn’t the Rizzoli proposal we were hoping for.

Find more from Dorothy Snarker visit dorothysurrenders.com or @dorothysnarker.

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