Poor Margaret Elizabeth. It is going to rain on her wedding day. Roger’s daughter doesn’t want her father’s young bride to show her unlined face. The fabulous former Mrs. Sterling tried to propose a compromise. Roger and June (ha!) could host their own table; she’ll sit with the in-laws. Roger had the arrogance to suggest that he could find his ex a date if little Margaret was worried about an odd number of guests. Oh, he’s a low down dirty dog. Jane be damned. A date has been set. November 23, 1963. It rained that day on the East Coast as a nation mourned. November 23, 1963. JFK’s body was returned to the White House for a private family memorial.
For now he is just the petulant father of the bride, piqued that his little girl no longer worships him. Roger should be used to disappointing women by now. He shared a look with Joan in the office that spoke volumes. After greeting a very polished Betty (”oh look, Princess Grace swallowed a basketball!”) who had come to meet Don for a dinner date, Roger gazed for a moment at Joan. ”Good night, Mrs. Harris,” he said tenderly, while she held her wedding ring like an amulet. That answers that mystery, hey folks? Our Joan got hitched to the damned doctor. She has until June 1 to get away cleanly. Once he becomes Chief Resident, she told Betty, he wants her knocked up. The aggressiveness of that expression feels fitting. In every great dramatic series, there’s that first moment when you realize your favorite characters, and thus you, will not be spared (ie., think Wallace from the Wire). I’ll never get over Joan having to smooth down her skirt so she and the doc could make their dinner reservations.
Frustrated by his daughter’s disapproval, Roger initiated a sideways conversation with Peggy on the elevator. So much focus on the bustling downstairs lobby these last two episodes, and the literal upwards and downwards movement of the characters! Roger deemed Peggy a young girl. He determined her to be ”the only one around here who doesn’t have that stupid look on her face.” (Roger, old chap: This first slap is for Joan. This sherry on your head is for the telephone operators. And this knee to the groin is for the Sterling Cooper secretaries who are hired specifically for their eager, girlish, slightly scared pretty faces.) Roger glibly wondered what her old man would have to do to get disinvited from her own wedding. Peggy told him her father was dead. He smirked, not unkindly. But he smirked.
After a few passing glances last week, Peggy strode into the spotlight last night. Sterling Cooper is trying to win a Pepsi diet drink account and the client wants a campaign á la Ann-Margret in Bye Bye Birdie. As the Sterling Cooper boys got boners under the table for the winning redhead, except for Sal who admired the gal’s sass, Peggy sat there with a cocked eye. The client is wrong-headed, she insisted. They should be catering to a woman’s fantasy, not Ken’s or Harry’s or even Sal’s. The boys called her a prude. Though Harry said kudos for not being a fatso anymore.
NEXT: The bar scene