And Just Like That... – Season 2 Episode 6

Published: Jun 23 2025

Is anyone else utterly drained? At times, tuning into "And Just Like That…" can feel akin to consuming three disparate narratives simultaneously, each with its own distinct tone. Imagine the abrupt transition from the broad, over-the-top comedy of Charlotte navigating a snowstorm apocalypse merely to procure condoms for her daughter, to an earnest attempt to bestow a heartwarming, empowering solo moment upon Lisa Todd-Wexley – it's enough to give you whiplash. And then, throw into the mix the intense family saga that envelops Miranda this week, and I'm astonished we weren't all doubled over in nausea from the whirling dervish of emotions. Perhaps you were! If so, more power to you; I get it. It's not that any individual plot thread was inherently terrible (admittedly, the condom fiasco had me contemplating punching a wall), but when blended together, they created a cacophony of confusion.

And Just Like That... – Season 2 Episode 6 1

Let's delve into Miranda's predicament, as her experiences in this episode will undoubtedly chart a new course for the remainder of the season. Miranda grapples with two separate breakups, driving her to the brink of madness as she shuttles between Che's Manhattan abode, her makeshift Brooklyn crash pad at Nya's, and still making occasional stops at her semi-home to care for Brady without overly burdening Steve, who remains houseless despite volunteering to move out during their family therapy session. Miranda is weighed down by guilt over her actions towards Steve and their family, a guilt that intensifies when Carrie, during a chat about relationships with exes, reveals what Steve confided in her last season at the house painting volunteer event – his unwavering commitment to wearing his wedding ring and his inability to move past Miranda.Carrie shares this not to evoke guilt but to emphasize that if Miranda wants to propel their divorce forward and urge Steve to vacate the premises, she will be the one to initiate the necessary pushes, perhaps substantial ones.

When Miranda confronts Steve next, his reaction is explosive. I'm not suggesting we weren't headed towards a significant confrontation between Miranda and Steve, but the ferocity of his tirade, accusing Miranda of not even wanting Brady, seemed to emerge from thin air. For the characters, this tension may have been simmering for months, but for us viewers, it hasn't been that long. And aside from that family therapy session, Steve has been a relative absence this season, making it challenging to become emotionally engrossed in this outburst that felt so uncharacteristic.

Steve swiftly apologizes, leaving Miranda profoundly hurt by his accusations, and they end up spooning in bed – a poignant, farewell spoon, if you will. Just as Miranda expresses her reluctance to hurt Steve further, she discovers a condom wrapper on his nightstand. She lambasts him for making her believe he was the aggrieved party, for portraying himself as wounded when he had clearly moved on (granted, casual sex isn't indicative of healthy progression, but nonetheless). Steve counters by insisting he was never the victim, and honestly, folks, it feels as though the writers are straining to restore our faith in Miranda. It's not working – her actions last season were less than stellar. Regardless, it appears Miranda and Steve are done tiptoeing around each other and are on a path towards a genuine divorce. Hurray for… someone, I suppose. I just can't discern the victor in this scenario at present.

Moreover, Miranda isn't exactly finding solace in Che's open arms. Che is still reeling from the failure of their pilot. It's bleak, my friends – a soul-sucking existence akin to lounging on the couch all day, clad in sweatpants, indulging in Pirate Booty. Wait, that actually sounds like my ideal day? Perhaps Miranda could afford to take a breather from her obsession with Che for a moment? After all, shunning the outdoors and eschewing face-to-face human interaction is a perfectly viable lifestyle choice, people – err, I mean, moms. It astounds me that the pivotal fight between Che and Miranda in this episode stems from Che, devoid of a TV show and uninterested in comedy club gigs, resorting to recording Cameos from bed. Couldn't Che… perhaps venture into the living room to record these Cameos at a more reasonable hour? Must they be done from bed? Additionally, Miranda isn't incorrect in her critique of the voice Che adopts during these recordings – it's downright psycho.

At Che Pasa's Casa, the clouds of gloom gather thickly, prompting Carrie to reach out to her friend for some moral reinforcement ahead of her pivotal appearance at the "Life After Death: A Widows’ Storytelling Event" – aka Widow Con. Reluctantly, Che agrees, partly driven by Carrie's genuine commitment to supporting her fellow widows but mainly to demonstrate to Miranda that they can venture beyond the confines of their home.

When the blizzard strikes with a vengeance, Che valiantly, albeit halfheartedly, attempts to wriggle out of attending this gathering. One might concede that since Widow Con has been underway at the hotel for days, it might persist despite the snow. However, I find it hard to fathom Carrie Bradshaw, even encased in her chic Pierpaolo Piccioli Moncler coat dress (which seems more of an impediment than assistance), trudging through such inclement weather. And to imagine her arriving looking impeccable under such circumstances is sheer audacity! If I ventured even a short distance in such snow and gales, I'd be left with mascara streams and a couple of fractures, minimum. Yet, Carrie Bradshaw remains undeterred. Despite her opening joke flopping, she delivers an emotional and triumphant reading of her memoir, captivating the audience, including Che. Finally, Che gains some clarity about her situation, courtesy of a room filled with women who have suffered the heart-wrenching loss of their beloveds.

Che recognizes the need for honesty with herself regarding her requirements for moving forward and realizes that her crumbling relationship with Miranda is no longer viable. When Miranda arrives at Che's place after her emotional rollercoaster with Steve, Che doesn't dither to confront the issue: It's just not working. Miranda doesn't even put up a token resistance; she knows it too. They're at crossroads in their lives, and their situation is beyond a mere rut. Thus, for the second time that day, Miranda engages in a farewell spoon session, albeit marginally more amicable than the previous one. It remains to be seen what this breakup will mean for Che Diaz's character arc in 'And Just Like That…'. However, I'm more intrigued by the implications of this newfound freedom for Miranda. Could we be witnessing a revival of "Carrie and Miranda braving the dating scene" narratives from the golden days? One can always hope.

Other snowy escapades stretch credulity even further than Widow Con. I'm all for sex positivity, but in what parallel universe would a mother venture into the tempestuous streets of the Upper East Side to procure condoms for her teenage daughter who has declared – to the entire family – her intention to lose her virginity? Absolutely not, I insist. This responsibility lies solely with Lily! And if the major hurdle in these teens obtaining condoms is Lily's boyfriend's fear of recognition at the pharmacy, couldn't Lily simply fetch them herself? This entire scenario is exasperating. While Charlotte and Harry have emerged as the highlight of season two, Lily has unmistakably taken the crown for the worst AJLT offspring. I commend her awareness of the ill-advisability of post-Shake Shack sex, but beyond that, I draw the line. Does Charlotte deserve a share of Lily's neuroses? Perhaps, but certainly not to this extent. At least this situation offers us some delightful comic relief from Kristin Davis. I'll forever cherish the sight of her shouting, "Please! My daughter needs condoms!" through a snowy pharmacy window at a man.

Imagine this vivid tapestry of chaos unfolding as LTW heads to an unyielding event, one that defiantly refuses to be postponed, celebrating her as a trailblazing Black filmmaker and her masterpiece honoring the indomitable spirit of Black women shattering ceilings across various realms. Picture the scene: LTW, wig box in hand, having trekked from her apartment, steps into a bathroom where she meticulously places her wig back on. She turns to another Black woman, her eyes burning with determination, and declares, "We won't let a mere sprinkle of snow dampen our spirits, will we?" It's a poignant, electric moment, brimming with resolve. Yet, amidst this powerful undercurrent, Charlotte is seen discreetly delivering condoms to her daughter, while Che quips that Carrie's opening act at Widow Con is "the Don Rickles of Death." The tonal whiplashes are nothing short of dizzying.

Now, brace yourselves for a wild ride, darlings: The earlier discourse on navigating relationships with exes sparks a reflective spark in Carrie, who learns that Aidan Shaw has been divorced for a half-decade. Empowered by her Widow Con experience—a stark reminder of her very much alive existence—Carrie pens an email to Aidan, her fingers dancing across the keys. "Hey, stranger. Remember me?" she types with a hint of nostalgia. Given John Corbett's confirmed appearance, the suspense over whether Aidan will respond might have diminished slightly, but mark my words: Get ready, because Aidan Shaw is making a triumphant return.

View all