Episode #129
An Hour After #128
TEASER
INT: BAR
NIGHT
Roberta Owens slams her martini glass down on the bar, sending a sharp clink
out into the din surrounding her. She looks around squinting through the
cloud of dullness imposed by the dim lighting, and notes the sparse sprinkling
of bar patrons tonight. Well, duh, she tells herself –
it’s Thanksgiving. Everyone’s got someplace better to be.
ROBERTA: Everyone but me.
The words slip out, spontaneous and low. They hit her before she even knew
they were coming … But it’s true, she thinks. Why don’t
I have anyplace better to be than this hellhole?
She lingers over the martini glass, breathing a heavy sigh into its depths.
She watches as a single drop of liquor dangling on the side of the glass
wiggles loose and plummets to the bottom.
Suddenly she realizes that there is someplace she can be.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (DINING ROOM)
NIGHT
Bill reaches over Courtney’s shoulder as she turns to her left, causing
him to nearly bump her in the chin with the plate he has removed from the
table.
BILL: Sorry there, Court.
COURTNEY: No problem.
He carts off her plate and a stack of others as she focuses her attention
upon Jason.
COURTNEY: Are you sure you’re alright? You hardly said a word through
the whole meal.
His glazed eyes don’t even move from the empty spot of tablecloth upon
which they are fixed.
COURTNEY: Jason?
Only once she waves a hand in front of his face does he react, shaking his
head quickly as he snaps out of his daze.
JASON: Yeah?
COURTNEY: God, you looked like you were a million miles away.
He bites his lower lip, working it nervously as the image of Alex lying beside
him in bed, stroking his hair, replays itself on the screen of his mind.
JASON: I’m fine, really.
With that, he stands and makes an abrupt exit. She just watches him walk
away in confusion.
TIM: You noticed it, too?
Courtney flips her head around to the other side in surprise. Tim is standing
over her, watching Jason enter the kitchen.
TIM: I can tell something’s wrong with him.
COURTNEY: I know … I just wish I had some idea what it is.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (KITCHEN)
NIGHT
Sarah hands Paula a dish to add to the stack on the counter. Paula places
it there, but quickly realizes that this latest addition is going to send
the entire pile of dishes sliding off the counter. With fast hands, Sarah
grabs hold of them and divides the stack in two.
PAULA: Thanks, honey. That could’ve been a mess.
Something I know plenty about, Sarah thinks sarcastically. Paula,
glancing up, catches the ever-so-slight roll of the eyes her daughter does.
PAULA: What is it?
SARAH: What?
PAULA: That look – what’s wrong?
SARAH: Oh, uh, nothing. I was just thinking—
About how I cheated on my husband, who I’m not sure even loves me
anymore. Her mind completes the sentence, much to her dismay; she is
nearly prompted by some strange impulse to blurt the words out.
SARAH: Nothing. Nothing at all.
She begins to step away, but Paula restrains her by placing a hand on her
shoulder.
PAULA: Sarah, don’t give me that.
SARAH: Huh?
PAULA: Don’t just dodge me like that. It doesn’t take a genius
to see what’s going on with you.
Sarah stares at her mother in uncertain shock.
ACT ONE
INT: ANDY’S APT. (LIVING ROOM)
NIGHT
A beep sounds as Andy presses the button to turn off the telephone for what
could very well be the millionth time this evening. He places the phone back
on the receiver and settles down onto the creme-colored leather sofa.
ANDY: Where could she be?
Probably out at dinner with her road crew, he realizes. He feels a desperation
welling up within him – an urge, a need, to speak to Danielle already.
So far, though, his efforts to do so have been unsuccessful.
The chime of the doorbell yanks him from his trance. He pauses a moment,
contemplating whether he should even bother to open it; after all, chances
are good that trouble could come calling, this being a holiday and all –
particularly in the form of his mother. Still, something within propels him
off of the sofa and over to the door.
He pulls it open and does a double-take upon seeing the face standing on
the other side.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (KITCHEN)
NIGHT
Sarah is oblivious to the clattering going on behind her and Paula as her
mother’s words hang in the air.
SARAH: W-what do you mean?
PAULA: I’m not an idiot, Sarah. I can tell exactly what’s got you
so on-edge.
SARAH: You can?
PAULA: Yes.
She pulls her daughter more into a corner, away from the ears of others.
PAULA: Things are still rough with Brent, aren’t they?
Relief almost bursts out of Sarah in one massive breath as she speaks.
SARAH: No, Mom, that’s—
PAULA: There’s no reason to try to cover in front of me, Sarah. I know
you may not want everyone else to know about it – especially seeing
how happy Tim is with Claire and Jason is with Courtney – but you can
talk to me about it.
SARAH: There’s nothing to talk about!
Paula’s eyebrow hooks upward.
PAULA: Are you sure?
SARAH: Yes.
Her response comes forcefully, bearing a tinge of annoyance – just enough
to make Paula certain that it was not the truth. Before she has a chance
to ask any more questions, though, Sarah has stomped off.
All of a sudden, Paula feels a cloud settle over her. Her eyes roam upward,
as if looking for answers – an explanation, perhaps, as to why her family
is constantly dealing with such trauma. My poor children, she thinks,
considering each of their past and recent crises. My poor children –
all of my children …
A hand settles tenderly but firmly on her shoulder. She turns quickly, startled
by the intrusion.
BILL: Is everything alright?
She looks up into his face and realizes that she can’t tell him anything
but the truth – especially not with the light streams of tears that
have begun to dribble down her face.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (DINING ROOM)
NIGHT
Tim takes a seat next to Courtney as their conversation continues.
TIM: I thought I was gonna get some kind of answer out of him when I asked
him about it before, but he just kind of froze.
COURTNEY: It’s weird. He hardly ever gets like this.
TIM: I know.
He notices that her eyes are focused upon Don and Helen, standing closely
together at the entrance to the room.
TIM: Don’t let Jason get you down too much. You’ve got too much
to be happy about right now.
She cracks a smile as she turns back to him.
COURTNEY: You can say that again. I—I’m just so glad that my parents
were able to work everything out. It sounds cheesy, but it really makes me
believe in the power of true love.
Tim gives an agreeable nod.
COURTNEY: It just goes to show, there’s nothing that true love can’t
overcome, nothing worth giving up on it for.
As she says this, Tim catches sight of Claire, who has just entered the room.
ACT TWO
INT: ANDY’S APT. (LIVING ROOM)
NIGHT
ANDY: What are you doing here?
He looks at Roberta in confusion.
ROBERTA: I just thought I’d drop by and wish you a happy Thanksgiving.
God knows I’ve got nothing more important to be doing …
He tries to shake off his perplexity at seeing her as he answers.
ANDY: I know the feeling.
ROBERTA: Danielle’s still on the road, huh?
ANDY: Yes, she is.
Roberta chuckles, though Andy finds the noise to be just a little off in
tone.
ROBERTA: Wouldn’t it be nice if I could keep track of the schedules
of all the performers I’m in charge of?
She shakes her head, causing her perfectly arranged mass of black hair to
spring ever so slightly.
ROBERTA: Have you heard from her today?
ANDY: Uh … no. No, I haven’t, actually.
ROBERTA: Really? That’s—
ANDY: I believe she’s at dinner with some of the crew. I expect she’ll
be calling later.
ROBERTA: Ohhhh …
The alcohol swimming in her suddenly becomes obvious, as her body swings
awkwardly in accordance with her wobbling voice.
ANDY: Is everything okay, Ms. Owens?
ROBERTA: Roberta. Call me Roberta, okay?
She raises a hand in a clumsy wave.
ANDY: Sure …
He answers uncertainly as she stumbles inside the apartment and seats herself.
ROBERTA: Ya don’t mind if I hang out for a bit, do ya? It’s not
like either of us has anyplace wonderful to be …
Andy watches her as she shifts around on the couch, attempting to get
comfortable.
ANDY: No. No, I suppose not.
He closes the front door.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (LIVING ROOM)
NIGHT
Sarah enters and immediately makes a beeline for the couch, where Brent is
seated, engaged in conversation with Molly. She lowers herself down upon
the arm of the couch, within centimeters of her husband.
SARAH: Hi, honey.
BRENT: Hey.
He turns back to his discussion with Molly. Sarah, seeing this, begins to
slowly rub his back.
MOLLY: So, Sarah, is everything finished with Matt?
The sheer … irony of the question nearly forces a sarcastic smirk onto
Sarah’s face, but she thinks better of it. It’s just like Molly
to ask a question like this, though, she notes mentally.
SARAH: The case is officially closed. All the charges against Matt have been
dropped.
MOLLY: That’s good to hear. I guess I owe you an apology, then –
you did him a great favor by helping him clear his name.
Sarah uncomfortably dismounts from the side of the couch, dropping her weight
back down onto her feet.
SARAH: I’m just glad I was able to find the truth in that whole mess.
She stares right at Molly, a subtly suggestive expression adorning her face.
SARAH: After all, the truth can be quite a pain to uncover sometimes, can’t
it?
***
INT: FISHER HOME (KITCHEN)
NIGHT
BILL: What’s wrong?
Paula just looks at him sadly, feeling that any speech might set the waterworks
in motion.
BILL: Paula, please. What’s the matter?
Her eyes beg him to stop asking questions – not here, not now.
BILL: Do you want to go upstairs and talk about this?
She wants to shake her head ‘no,’ but she can’t. Softly Bill
takes her by the wrist and leads her to the stairs.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (DINING ROOM)
NIGHT
Courtney turns to see what has caught Tim’s eye; she spots Claire.
COURTNEY: If you don’t mind my asking, is something the matter between
the two of you?
Tim remains focused on his wife. A long moment passes before he snaps out
of it and looks back at Courtney.
TIM: I’m not exactly sure.
COURTNEY: What does that mean?
TIM: I don’t know. I honestly just don’t know anymore – I
don’t know what she wants, I don’t know what she’s thinking
…
His outburst catches Courtney off-guard. She hardly expected him to offer
this much information, and so quickly, at that.
TIM: I’m sorry. I just started throwing all of this at you—
COURTNEY: No, it’s alright. If there’s anything you wanna talk
about—you can trust me.
TIM: Thanks.
He lets a deep sigh roll out.
TIM: I don’t want to say too much, but I’m just frustrated …
There’s someone I would rather Claire not see, but she doesn’t
seem to think there’s any problem with it.
COURTNEY: So basically, you’re just not seeing eye-to-eye on this one
thing?
TIM: That’s about it.
COURTNEY: Tim, listen to me: My parents let themselves be kept apart for
months by what was literally nothing. It was all just a big bunch of
misunderstandings and a serious lack of communication. And you know where
it got them?
He responds with a nod as his teeth pull up the corner of his lower lip.
COURTNEY: Absolutely nowhere. They were both miserable for months because
they made more of a situation than there was to make of it. Granted, my dad
let things get a little out of control, but still—They could have saved
themselves months of pain if they’d just stepped back and taken a look
at the bigger picture.
TIM: I see what you’re getting at.
Courtney takes a sip of her soda before answering with a grin.
COURTNEY: I’m glad.
Just then, Bill ushers a quiet Paula through the room. Tim watches his parents
head into the living room and then upstairs.
TIM: Hang on for a minute, okay? I want to go make sure everything’s
okay with my mom.
He pushes himself up out of his chair and follows the path taken by his parents
just moments ago.
ACT THREE
INT: ANDY’S APT. (LIVING ROOM)
NIGHT
Roberta returns from pouring herself another drink and seats herself beside
Andy on the sofa. She pulls her legs up as well, though, taking the opportunity
to kick her shoes off.
ROBERTA: What a crappy holiday …
ANDY: Maybe so, but I appreciate your dropping by. It’s nice to have
someone to talk to, for a change.
He slams down the rest of his scotch as Roberta turns to him with a curious
look.
ROBERTA: What’s that mean?
Before he even says anything, a knowing look develops on her face.
ROBERTA: Oh, I see. With Danielle gone so much, you must spend tons of time
alone, huh? That’s gotta suck.
ANDY: It does get a little depressing sometimes, yes—
ROBERTA: Just forget about her.
He sets the empty glass down abruptly on the coffee table as he reacts to
her comment with surprise.
ANDY: Excuse me?
ROBERTA: Seems pretty obvious to me that Danielle’s more interested
in her career right now – and why wouldn’t she be? It’s the
opportunity of a lifetime.
She slides closer to him, worming her way across the leather sofa.
ROBERTA: But when a chance like that comes along – well, there are certain
sacrifices a person has to make.
Her deep, brown eyes burn into Andy’s. She lightly touches her tongue
to her lips.
ROBERTA: Dear Danielle doesn’t seem to want to make that decision, though
– so whattaya say we make it for her?
She suddenly pounces. Her lips invade Andy’s and her tongue quickly
does the same to his mouth.
Strangely, the first thought he has is not of pushing her away.
***
INT: FISHER HOME (LIVING ROOM)
NIGHT
Molly breaks her sister’s heavy stare with a jerkiness that, she scolds
herself, showed a little too much discomfort. She stands, holding her hands
over her hips.
SARAH: But anyway, I’m just glad to be home now. All those months
away—It was awful not being able to be near my husband.
She slinks down onto the couch and snuggles up to Brent, lying her head across
his chest. Molly watches, almost fascinated by the scene. It strikes her
that this is the first time she’s seen them being mildly intimate in
many months.
Her eyes move for just a split-second to Brent’s face, but the contact
is shattered when his own eyes catch sight of hers. They each turn away,
looking about the room uncomfortably.
Suddenly Brent pushes Sarah off of him, albeit delicately.
BRENT: I really need something to drink. My throat—I must be getting
a cough or something—it’s so scratchy …
He stands and staggers out, faint excuses trailing after him lazily. Sarah
pulls herself to a sitting position and, after watching his exit, looks back
at her older sister.
SARAH: I am so lucky to have him. I just thank God I didn’t blow
things—
She stops her subtle taunting mid-sentence. A serious expression fills her
face. You did almost blow things, you idiot, her mind whispers.
Don’t get so cocky.
MOLLY: Didn’t blow things when?
***
INT: FISHER HOME (MASTER BEDROOM)
NIGHT
Bill stands with his back against the door, holding it shut as he begins
to question Paula.
BILL: Please, tell me what’s going on. I can tell you’re upset—
PAULA: I am. It’s just …
The weak boundary she’d established between holding herself together
and letting it all go crumbles with these few words.
PAULA: Tonight just got me thinking about everything. About the kids—how
terrible everything has been for them, how much they’ve all gone through.
I just thank God we’ve been able to be here for them …
Bill speaks slowly, soothingly.
BILL: I think I see where this is going.
PAULA: Bill, I can’t do this anymore. Not knowing—not knowing where
he is, where he went, what he’s been through … I need to know.
She looks up from the floor, wrestling with the loose tears to slow enough
so that she might speak.
BILL: You can’t.
A sudden rush of anger sends Paula’s next words out loud and clear.
PAULA: Why the hell not?!?
***
INT: FISHER HOME (UPSTAIRS HALLWAY)
NIGHT
Tim presses even closer to the door, trying to make something of the scraps
of conversation he’s gathered.
END OF EPISODE #129
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