Debra: I still can't sleep because of this thing with your mother.
Ray: Oh, man, that stinks. Can I help? Are you thirsty? You want some wine?
Debra: You know, she just sets me off, and then she leaves. But it stays with me, and I just get angrier and angrier.
Ray: Huh. Well, there must be something you can do to relieve the tension. What could it be?
Debra: You're right. You know what? I should apologize.
Ray: Oh! What?
Debra: Yeah. I mean, it's always this way, you know? The sooner I accept the blame, the sooner all this will all go away, and it'll be better for everybody.
Ray: Yeah? Really?
Debra: Yeah. You don't need me brooding around here all week.
Ray: Hey, I'm the last person you should be worried about, but, no, you're right. You should go apologize. I'm sure you're right. Yes.

Ray: In fact, I heard she's sitting over there waiting for you to apologize!
Debra: What?!
Ray: Well, yeah, because she knows you always do, no matter how wrong she is, but uh no, but you're right. You shouldn't let her happiness get in the way of your dignity.
Debra: Oh, damn her! I'm not going over there!
Ray: What? What is this?
Debra: If she thinks I'm coming over there, she can sit there all smug till hell freezes over!
Ray: Whoa! This is a complete turnaround.
Debra: Great. Now I'm not gonna be able to sleep again. She is killing me! Your mother's killing me!
Ray: Here, here. I hate seeing you like this. [rubs Debra's back] I really do. Here, just relax. Relax. Yeah, yeah. [kisses Debra]
Ray: Ow!
Debra: Ooh, did I bite you?
Ray: Yeah. Yeah, you did.

Amy: Hey. We're going to the flea market. You guys wanna come with us?
Marie: We can't. Debra's sick.
Amy: Really? She was fine yesterday.
Ray: Yeah, well, yesterday... If we could all go back.
Marie: Raymond told me she was so sick last night he wouldn't even let me see her.
Robert: Oh, he must've been tending to her, right, Raymond?
Ray: That's right.

Debra: So, Ray? What do you wanna do this morn- Oh.
Marie: Debra, you look well.
Debra: Thank you.
Marie: Shouldn't you be in bed?
Debra: What are you talking about?
Marie: Raymond said you're sick.
Ray: She was. You are. Last night when I kissed your head, you had a fever. In fact, you could be delirious. This could all be a dream. You should go back to bed right now.