The Real Housewives of Atlanta Recap: Bridge Building and Bridge Burning

The Real Housewives of Atlanta
Picking Up the Peaches
Season 17 Episode 9
Editor’s Rating ★★★
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Do you guys smell that in the air? That sticky-sweet peach-scented entertainment? Dare I say… I think we’re back? And I can admit, as an overly optimistic viewer, I’ve alluded to this moment since I started covering this series, but I almost shed a tear watching the midseason trailer. It was like I was a proud parent watching my baby shine at the piano recital after months of saying “You’re doing great, sweetie!” while ignoring the discordant notes of their rehearsals. I knew they had it in them! 

While tonight’s episode isn’t particularly explosive nor especially comedy-filled (we have Rhode Island for all of that), in the panopoly of three-star installments over the years, this one is the first to really feel like a good return to form as Bravo’s Sunday comfort show. We got a NeNe flashback, Cynthia teaching the youth how to serve face, and two man-on-the-street interviews! And it serves as a great segue to what looks to be a jam-packed second half of the season, with the women attempting to get on the same page following the division solidified by the Dallas trip. While this was Phaedra’s original goal for her floating sound bath, the event ends in shambles, and the episode opens with the conclusion of Porsha and Kelli’s altercation.

Production swiftly shepherds Kelli’s tiny body away from Porsha because, despite Kelli’s insistence that she would’ve “six-foot-seven’ed a bitch,” we know P. Willy would’ve knocked her out in one swing. The Plums comfort Kelli as she goes off about going to the “depths of hell,” and The Peaches follow Porsha back to the table as she tries to make sense of everything with K. now that she’s aware of the animosity. K. continues on a delusional tirade in the car, still fighting a one-sided fight with her unknowing opponent, bellowing to Pinky, “You don’t run me, and you don’t run Atlanta!” How any of Porsha’s actions could be interpreted as her trying to run K. is unclear on planet Earth, but we’re still learning how things work on planet K. 

When Phaedra checks on Kelli days after she left the sound bath in a huff, Kelli all but admits to being a spiteful, yet dutiful member of the Porsha Williams fan club as she divulges tea she read online about a married man somehow involved in Porsha’s divorce documents. She apologizes to Phaedra and provides context for her behavior, explaining how nasty her own divorce has become. Kelli’s ex falls into the toxic category of Househusbands like Marc Daly and Jason Hoppy, who wield their rights as a father as a way to fuck with their baby mom’s source of income under the guise of protective parenting. It’s one thing not to want your child on camera for logical safety reasons, but these men’s actions are more tactical than logical. It’s heartbreaking to hear that Kelli’s daughters feel stung by no longer being able to participate in this huge part of their mom’s life, so I feel for her in that regard (I’m excited to see Phaedra giving legal advice again; hopefully Kelli won’t be paying in cash in the parking lot though). 

However, the irony of it all is that Kelli, K. Michelle’s new friend, is doing exactly to Porsha what K. believes the other girls are doing to her. Kelli came across information (whether she dug for it or it fell in her lap is irrelevant) and held onto it so she could weaponize the details on camera. Well, now it’s only Drew that K. thinks is plotting, as by the end of the episode, she makes peace with Porsha, and she’s already ruled out Phaedra (I imagine her with a little notebook where she’s writing manically, hypothesizing and crossing things out as her story changes). Porsha and K.’s truce comes as the episode highlights moments of reconciliation and bridge-building. Through a series of flashbacks, we see that Angela extends an olive branch to K. Michelle and initiates a very sweet sit-down to try to make the newbie feel more welcome. Then, Pinky and Porsha have a chat, with Pinky trying to encourage Porsha to see K.’s side of things, opening the door to major bridge-building between Porsha and K., facilitated by Pinky and Cynthia. 

Porsha and K.’s reconciliation helps close the divide in the group, though who knows how long this will last, because we know not to expect K. to live in the same reality as the rest of us. In fact, the latest update from Planet K. Michelle is that another element to the scheme is exposing her long toes. The woman is nuts! But now that I know this, every twist and turn of her delusions becomes increasingly hilarious, almost like Kelly Bensimon. But instead of jelly beans and running in the street, it’s K. Michelle talking to the voices in her head and crashing out on Twitter. Unlike Kelly Bensimon, K.’s delusions trickle from a strange inferiority complex that doesn’t bode well for a Housewife who had such a great start. Pinky succinctly breaks it down for Cynthia, who missed the chaotic ending to the sound bath. Pinky relays that K. felt “mean girl” energy from Porsha after the tea with Kelli and the miscarriage comment (the stinky pussy “plot” still only exists in K.’s mind and her confessionals). 

This is again ironic: why would K. hold Porsha’s sparring with Kelli over Porsha’s head in such a dramatic way? What if someone’s first on-camera interaction with K. was while she was dueling with Drew? Would she think it’s fair to them to then label her a mean girl? For a reality TV veteran, it’s strange that K. Michelle doesn’t understand that these moments come with the territory. Just like Porsha said during their armistice over dinner, girl, you’re going to see a lot worse than that in this space. Once the two women finally reach a truce, K. directs all of her disdain to Drew, which, as we see from the mid-season teaser, will come to a head in the episodes to come. 

Drew, on the other hand, has no idea what storm is coming her way as she deals with drama within her village of hairdressers, assistants, photographers, makeup artists, and drivers. She’s always rolled deep with an entourage of hangers-on who shuffle her to and from her made-for-TV acting roles and studio visits. She’s trying to get her house in order amidst her divorce, so she brings in a new manager to help whip them into shape. They’re definitely not the Kandi Coated Clique — it’s giving random Atlantians looking to attach themselves to a bigger name like barnacle to a whale — but apparently the group is still rife with messiness. 

Since we have no connection or emotional investment in these people as we did with Don Juan, the scene feels out of place, but the absurdity of it all was classic RHOA. A disgruntled wig stylist tells the driver he’s slacking, and the driver says Drew’s wigs are lifted (I laughed so hard when the wig guy said, “The blogs have never said anything about her hair!” That says everything about how Atlanta-coded this drama is). It devolves into the driver outing another employee for a possible drinking problem until Drew is reduced to tears. It’s a mess that’s over as quickly as it began, giving me whiplash, but that’s what Drew’s storylines tend to do. At least she’s putting in work, unlike Phaedra.

Meanwhile, Shamea catches her family up on her journey to “give” Gerald a son. I hate this terminology, as it implies that Shamea has any real control over the situation and that it’s something she must do independently to gain her husband’s favor. Not that we’ll ever get Gerald’s perspective — he’s used up all his allotted ten words and four minutes of screen time for the season. Without hearing his thoughts directly, he comes off a bit authoritarian regarding the “need” for a male heir, especially after the complications of Shiloh’s birth. It must be difficult for Shamea to deal with the stress and hormones of these fertility treatments while also being the parent of a child with special needs. I will say, however, that I appreciate women like Shamea, Brittany Cartwright, and Married to Medicine newcomer Mimi for showing the unique ups and downs of parenting neurodivergent kids.

Shamea finds a brief respite from the drama while hanging with her family until it’s time to address her persistent friction with Angela. The two finally meet for dinner, and within minutes, it’s obvious this is a bridge-burning meeting, not a bridge-building attempt. Shamea comes in hot, telling the waitress she’s looking to meet a “tall lady with a size twelve shoe.” They don’t even make it to the meal before they start sprinkling the gasoline. Shamea says she feels things are hot and cold with Angela, and that Angela’s insistence that she was instigating things with K. Michelle makes it feel like she’s picking on her. 

Angela lights the flame atop the gasoline by calling Shamea a victim. Shamea snaps back, poking fun at Angela’s claim of having “the gift of discernment” by saying she should use it to sell some houses. I agree with Shamea that it’s weird that Angela seems to be able to move forward with everyone but her, but since it brought us this ending scene, I’m not complaining. Angela starts reading Shamea, calling her a lap dog with lipstick. At this point, everything is on fire, and the poor, gorgeous waitress pretends not to notice, yet the jabs keep flying. Shamea says Charles is in the streets, and Angela, quick on her feet, accuses Shamea of being in those same streets with him. Shamea storms out and production returns to old-school techniques, catching both women for an on-the-spot shady confessional in the parking lot. We’re so back, baby!