But Teddi is back to her mission statement of being a laid-back horse girl when the Lisas and Dorit arrive at her riding competition. Even though Teddi repeatedly told her that it would be a dirty horse track littered with horse poop, and she should wear closed-toed shoes, Dorit hobbles out in six-inch heels, a skin-tight dress, and a derby hat. Because it is very, very important to Dorit that you understand that she’s a craAaAaAzy RICH lady! Teddi takes the blue ribbon for her horse-jumpin’ skills, we learn that she and LVP are both regular churchgoing horse-lovers, and that even if it’s regarding going to church, Vanderpump will take any opportunity to take a dig at Rinna (“You need to go [to church] and beg for forgiveness!”) and Rinna will laugh it off. Y’know…until she decides she’d rather make a shiv out of a Stuart Weitzman heel and stab her fellow Lisa.
Over at the opposite end of a horse track, in Erika Jayne’s office/dressing room, she’s invited the co-author of her forthcoming book for a chat. Brian Moylan is a longtime RHOBH recapper (he also recapped Fire Island for EW.com); Erika read his work online, liked his style, and decided to ask him to help her write a book. So, Camille, if you’re out there, I’m available, and I’m willing to do the inevitable chapter about Kelsey falling off that stage that time for free.
Erika tells her co-author about her father inviting her over for thanksgiving 25 years later after abandoning her; when she asked about how he and his current wife ended up having children, her father responded, “Y’know, my wife never had any kids and I never had any kids…” Yikes. She says that’s when she knew the relationship with her father couldn’t be fixed: “There’s nothing to repair. Because it never existed. I never existed.” Erika’s ability to be completely vulnerable while still seeming entirely aloof remains unmatched in the Housewives world.
In the opposite corner, striking their signature balance of giddy insincerity, we have the dreaded Kemsleys, who are having Teddi and Edwin over for dinner. Dorit has just gotten her new Hermes place settings, which total at a reasonable $18,481.92, and she literally cannot wait to tell you about it. Teddi on the other hand wants to bring over a $30 bottle of wine that she found in her pantry, but her husband won’t let her, and then PK wants to serve it without getting out champagne flutes, but his wife won’t let him. And I hate agreeing with Dorit, you know I do, but, “Wine goes in a wine glass, champagne goes in a champagne glass — you wouldn’t eat cereal with a fork” is a good line.
Teddi tells Dorit and PK that they won’t have any more kids because they had a rough delivery with their youngest child, Cruz. Together, she and Edwin recount a harrowing and sincere story about choosing the one male embryo over the multiple female embryos during their IVF journey, and feeling like they were being punished for choosing the sex when the baby was born with a failing heart. You really feel for them as they explain how much protecting their children means to them…and then PK shares that his baby from a previous marriage was born with a “cone head.” Teddi might turn out to be a little boring, but her delivery of, “That’s the same thing…ish” might be worth it all.
Finally, they sit down to the dinner table, and PK gets to share what he’s been just dying to ever since he picked his v-neck for the evening: a random and unprompted story about how the first time Lisa Rinna came over for a dinner party, she was so nice, and then after she left she “basically attacked the whole evening.” Cry about it, why don’t you, PK, your napkin is conveniently pulled up from your lap to your nipples for some reason anyway.
Teddi looks bored to tears, but when Dorit swans in to chirp, “He thinks Lisa Rinna is schizophrenic,” she perks up enough in her confessional to say, “I mean unless you have a medical license, I don’t think I go there.” What PK and Dorit have is a shared license to annoy the s— out of me, and boy do they know how to use it. Teddi says that Rinna has seemed fine so far, and PK slurps back, “You wait, babe.” And let me tell you what, if PK ever called be babe, he would be getting a swift accountability kick to the balls, followed up with an accountability text containing a GIF of said kick. Happy new year, babes!