Episode 11 – Decisions and Revisions
OWEN’S CLASSROOM. The only people in the room are CHARLIE, OWEN and MRS. MINA, Owen’s teacher. She’s sitting behind her desk while Charlie is in an adult-sized chair on the other side. Owen sits at a child-sized desk near the back of the room, drawing pictures. A sea of empty desks stretch out in front of him.MRS. MINA: You know how students wish they get certain teachers each year? Well, Owen is developing into the type of student we wish we could fill our entire class with. (She smiles at Owen, who looks up from his drawing.)
CHARLIE: That’s… wow, that’s great to hear. He’s been working really hard. And he does all those extra exercises every night…
MRS. MINA: I know he puts in extra effort—and don’t get me wrong, it shows—but that’s not what really stands out. The phrase “mature-for-his-age” is overused. I prefer to say he’s well-grounded.
CHARLIE: Yeah, he’s taken some pretty big doses of reality.
MRS. MINA: Maybe that’s part of it. But in class, he only speaks when he has something to add to the discussion. Do you know how rare that is in students his age?
CHARLIE: Well, he’s always been a little quiet…
MRS. MINA: And then there’s the paper that he turned in.
CHARLIE: I’m sorry. “The paper?”
MRS. MINA: Um, yeah… The class has been working on it for a week.
CHARLIE: Oh, of course. “The paper.” Yeah, um, just slipped my mind for a sec. (Mrs. Mina gages the truth in this, then continues on.)
MRS. MINA: You should remember the topic of the paper was “What I Want To Be When I Grow Up.” It’s a pretty straightforward assignment, and usually the boys’ responses are predictable: fireman, astronaut, professional wrestler; things along those lines.
CHARLIE: But Owen…
MRS. MINA: Owen said that he wants to run his family’s restaurant, just like his brothers did. I remember reading his paper and thinking… well, it must have made you very proud. (Charlie raises his eyebrows then turns toward Owen, who smiles, having heard none of this.)
PO5 Credits
PEAT MARWICK PROFESSIONAL SERVICES in Philadelphia. BAILEY enters the building and approaches the desk of the lobby attendant. He waits as she finishes up her phone call, then she looks up and smiles.
ATTENDANT: Hello.
BAILEY: Hi, I’m here to see Will McKorkle.
ATTENDANT: Your name?
BAILEY: Bailey Salinger. (The attendant smiles as she dials an extension.)
ATTENDANT: Mr. McKorkle? Bailey Salinger here to see you. (She listens.) You’re welcome. (She hangs up.) He’ll be right out.
BAILEY: Thanks. (Bailey takes a few steps away from the desk, looking around the lobby. He turns back toward the attendant and she looks down quickly. A moment later, Will emerges from the elevator.) WILL: Bay, can you give me like five minutes? I promised Finance I’d finish this report before lunch…
BAILEY: Okay, but…I’m double parked.
WILL: Well, circle the building a couple times. I’ll meet you out front. (Bailey nods and Will heads back into the elevator. As Bailey passes the attendant’s desk, she flashes another smile.)
JULLIARD PRACTICE ROOM. CLAUDIA is sitting in a chair in the middle of the room playing the violin. A table is at the far end of the room, and three JUDGES, including PROF. OLDHAM, are sitting behind it, listening to her play. Claudia finishes the piece, hitting her last note with dramatic flair. She takes a deep breath, sits up straight, and tries to contain a smile. She’s proud of herself for playing with vigor, life, and emotion. Professor Oldham stares down at her.
PROFESSOR OLDHAM: One moment, please. (The three judges huddle close together and whisper among themselves. Claudia waits patiently, but the longer the whispering drones on, the more confidence drains from her face and posture.)
JUDGE #1: Claudia, your bowing is still overly flamboyant. That affects your fingering, which was slow through some passages.
CLAUDIA: Ummm… okay.
JUDGE #2: And you attempted to compensate for that with bow movements, which makes your phrasing sound rushed.
CLAUDIA: Well, I have others, you know. I’ve been working on a few pieces. I could play them for you now.
PROFESSOR OLDHAM: The problem isn’t with the piece. (Claudia looks crestfallen as the Professor Oldham stares sternly at her.)
GHIRARDELLI SQUARE, SAN FRANCISCO. CHARLIE and OWEN are sitting on a bench in front of the Ghirardelli Soda Fountain, eating ice cream sundaes. Charlie smiles as he watches Owen eating heaping spoonfuls of his ice cream, but then the smile fades. He sets down his own ice cream for a moment.
OWEN: Mrs. Mina really said that about me?
CHARLIE: Yep. So keep working hard and you just might find that bike you wanted under the Christmas tree.
OWEN: Cool! (Charlie smiles. After a moment, his expression changes.)
CHARLIE: Listen, O. There’s something I need to talk to you about.
OWEN: (Stopping in mid-spoonful) Uh oh. I didn’t mean to put all that paper down the toilet, Charlie, I swear. It was an accident. I promise I won’t do it again.
CHARLIE: What? (Laughing) No, it’s nothing like that. (Sighing) I only wish.
OWEN: Whew.
CHARLIE: Actually, it’s about me. Me and Kirsten. (Owen tilts his head, listening.) Um…you’re old enough now to know the truth, so…well…sometimes when people are together for a long time, they don’t always get along. And, um…Kirsten and I are kind of going through a rough spot right now, and we need some time to sort things out. To see how we can get along again like before. So…I have to leave, O. (Quickly) It’s only for a little while, and I promise nothing’s gonna change, except that I won’t be…sleeping at home right now. I’m still going to be there to help you with homework when you need it, and I’ll be there to pick you up from school and everything. I promise. Okay?
OWEN: Is that why Kirsten cries so much now, Charlie? Because you did something stupid?
CHARLIE: It’s not that simple. You wouldn’t understand…
OWEN: Bailey used to tell Sarah he was sorry when he did stupid things, and it made everything okay again. Can’t you just tell Kirsten you’re sorry?
CHARLIE: (Sighing heavily) I wish I could, O. I wish I could.
BARON’S STEAK HOUSE. BAILEY and WILL are sitting at a window booth. Bailey is looking over his menu as Will sets his down.
WILL: I don’t get you.
BAILEY: What?
WILL: A beautiful girl shows interest in you and all you care about is what the lunchtime special is.
BAILEY: First of all, the special is trout. Didn’t you see the little chalkboard? (Will rolls his eyes.) Second, we don’t even know for sure if she’s interested.
WILL: Moron, she asked me if you’re single.
BAILEY: So.
WILL: So…unless she’s planning on filling out your W2, why the hell else would she ask that?
BAILEY: Look, Will—
WILL: No, I’m not going to let you screw this up. (Bailey sighs.) Bay, did you not see her? Rebecca’s gorgeous. If it wasn’t for Jean, I’d be all over her.
BAILEY: I thought you said she’s never given you the time of day.
WILL: Okay, if it wasn’t for that, too. (Bailey shakes his head.) Look, she’s interested, and you’re not seeing anyone. So unless you can give me a damn good reason why you shouldn’t go out with her… (Bailey is about to speak, but instead he sighs.) Good, case closed. I’m hooking it up. (A waiter approaches.)
BAILEY: Will—
WAITER: Have you made up your minds?
WILL: Yes, we have. (Will smiles at Bailey, who glares at him.)
JULIA’S APARTMENT. JULIA is sitting on the couch, with papers scattered everywhere on the table in front of her. She’s holding up one sheet and reading intensely, pen in hand. She scribbles furiously after a few moments. GRIFFIN sits down next to her and looks over her shoulder. He notices she’s crossed out an entire page except for one sentence.
GRIFFIN: Hey, Jul…wouldn’t it be easier to just circle the sentences you want to keep? You’d save some ink that way. (He smiles and nudges her.)
JULIA: (Frowning at him, her brow furrowed) Ha, ha, very funny. (She goes back to the paper.)
GRIFFIN: Geez. Sorry.
JULIA: (Softening) I’m sorry, Griffin. It’s not you. It’s just…nothing’s working. I can’t do this. (She throws the paper down onto the table.)
GRIFFIN: Come on, Jul. It can’t be that bad.
JULIA: (Shaking her head) My idea in this story is good, you know? But…the character’s like all wrong. She seems kind of…immature. It’s like, I created these adult problems, but a little girl’s dealing with them. (She exhales deeply.)
GRIFFIN: Well, Jul…I’m not really surprised, ‘cuz when you wrote this a couple of years ago, wasn’t that you?
CLAUDIA’S DORM ROOM. CLAUDIA is buzzing around the room, packing clothes into a suitcase on the bed. SARAH is sitting in a chair, watching her as she packs.
CLAUDIA: …so then, they tell me I didn’t hit the staccato notes. Said they couldn’t even hear them, which is a total lie because I actually accented them for crying out loud!
SARAH: Look, Claud, I’m sure it wasn’t all that bad.
CLAUDIA: Sarah, you weren’t there. And the worst part was when they all stopped talking, when they ran out of things to say, they just got back into their little huddle and whispered to each other again. They were purposely looking for things to critique about my playing. (Sarah takes a moment, trying to figure out just how to phrase it…)
SARAH: Yeah, but… that’s their job, Claud. I mean, think about it. If all they did was tell you how great you are, how are you supposed to improve? Sure, compliments are nice to hear, but they’re not gonna help you develop beyond where you are now. So those Judges and that Professor… they might have been a little harsh, but in the end they’re only helping you. (Claudia’s movements slow down as she mulls over Sarah’s words.)
CLAUDIA: You like using logic in your arguments, don’t you?
SARAH: It helps sometimes. (Claudia tosses the last of her clothes in the suitcase and zips it up.) That’s not a lot of clothes for, how long are you going to be away? A month?
CLAUDIA: More or less. But if I make the finals, who knows? At least you’ll be able to stay in my room while I’m gone. You must be tired of crashing on the couch.
SARAH: You’re not so bad at the logic thing yourself.
SHOPPING MALL. BAILEY and MARIA are window shopping. Christmas decorations are everywhere. Maria stops as she sees an E-Z Bake Oven in a toy store window.
MARIA: Oh, God… I loved that when I was a kid. I wonder if I should get one for my niece. What do you think?
BAILEY: Huh?
MARIA: The oven. Is it too PC to give a little girl a cooking toy? Maybe I should get her a train… (She looks at other toys in the window. Bailey watches her and takes a deep breath. He starts to speak, then stops. He shakes his head and tries again.)
BAILEY: Maria, look…I know we have this…this thing…going on between us. (Maria looks confused) You know…
MARIA: Oh. You mean (smiling)… the “friends with benefits”?
BAILEY: Yeah, that. So… for instance, let’s say someone asked you out – you know– like on a date. Would you feel like…you had to talk to me about it?
MARIA: (Smiling) Bailey, did someone ask you out?
"BAILEY: No, no. I’m just…thinking ahead.
MARIA: Well, we did say no strings, right?
BAILEY: Right.
MARIA: I mean, I wouldn’t want you to come over to my place with someone’s perfume all over you. But other than that… (She shrugs.)
BAILEY: So…you wouldn’t have a problem with it?
MARIA: I don’t think so. Would you?
BAILEY: Uh…no.
MARIA: (Smiling) Okay then. (Turning back toward the window.) Train or oven?
HAYES STREET, SAN FRANCISCO. KIRSTEN and WANDA are walking down the street, window shopping. Kirsten is pushing Stewie in a stroller.
KIRSTEN: Part of me feels really awful, but part of me feels kinda relieved, you know? Like I’m finally on my way to making something happen, even if I don’t know what it is yet.
WANDA: I know it isn’t easy, Kirs. But you’ll see. Things will start to make sense, get clearer for you. It just takes some time. And you should be proud for having the guts to do this.
KIRSTEN: I wouldn’t have been able to do it without you. I was just in this…this permanent limbo. (She stops walking for a moment and looks at Wanda.) But you helped me find my courage…and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me through all this.
WANDA: (Smiling) That’s what friends are for, honey. (Giving Kirsten’s arm a little squeeze) I’m glad I could help.
KIRSTEN: (Walking again) I honestly don’t know what I would have done. I mean, I haven’t felt like anyone’s truly been on my side since…
WANDA: Since what?
KIRSTEN: (Hesitating) Well…since I stopped seeing Pete. (Smiling slightly) Sometimes… sometimes I go to the park and sit under the tree where we used to sit… so maybe I might feel a little bit better like I used to.
WANDA: (Chuckling) I don’t think it was the tree that made you feel so good about yourself, honey.
KIRSTEN: God, I can’t tell you how hard it’s been for me not to at least talk to him. I didn’t realize how much I came to depend on him, you know? To enjoy his friendship.
WANDA: I don’t know how you ever managed to spend so much time with him without Charlie hitting the roof.
KIRSTEN: (Looking guilty) That’s because Charlie never knew.
CHARLIE’S HOUSE. OWEN is sitting on the living room floor, doing his homework on the coffee table. JULIA is cleaning up the room, picking up clothes, laundry, toys, etc.
JULIA: How’s it coming over there, O?
OWEN: I dunno. This stuff doesn’t make any sense. Why do I have to learn about fractions anyway?
JULIA: Well, uh… How about money? Nickels, dimes, quarters… those are fractions.
OWEN: Really? (Looks at his book.) Hey, that actually helps! Thanks, Jul. You’re almost as good as Charlie, helping me with homework.
JULIA: No problem. Anytime.
OWEN: Good, ‘cause I’m gonna need your help, now that Charlie’s not sleeping here anymore. (This stops Julia dead in her tracks.)
JULIA: What?
OWEN: Charlie can’t help me like before, because he’s not here. (Julia recovers quickly, hiding her shock.)
JULIA: Don’t worry about it, O. I can give you a hand whenever you need it.
DENVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT. CLAUDIA walks off the gate lift into the terminal holding a small carry-on bag. She sees a man who appears to be in his early forties holding a sign that reads “Claudia Salinger.” With the man is a woman and two teenagers, a boy and a girl. The boy appears to be in his mid-to-late teens and the girl appears to be in her early teens. They have a look of exasperated boredom. Claudia forces a smile as she approaches the family.
WARSAW CAFÉ, PHILADELPHIA. BAILEY and REBECCA are seated at a small table tucked away in the corner of the restaurant. Bailey leans on his elbow as he listens to Rebecca.
REBECCA: Oh, and that’s not the worst part! My boss pulls me aside and says from now on I can’t just transfer calls. Now I’ve got to get the name of the caller, the company they’re with, what the hell they want…all that crap. Then I’ve got to track down the person they’re calling and find out if they want me to transfer the call. Is that the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard or what?
BAILEY: Well…
REBECCA: Like I’ve got nothing better to do than screen calls for all the lazy SOBs at Marwick who are never at their desks! I didn’t go to junior college for nine months just to be somebody’s answering service. I mean, I shouldn’t have to put up with that, right?
BAILEY: Well… no. But can’t you just—
REBECCA: Then my boss has the gall to tell me I need to improve my listening skills… which is like so hypocrytical because she always messes up on the days I request off. So you tell me who’s not listening to who. (Bailey is about to speak, but he’s cut off.) I mean, you don’t think I have a listening problem, do you?
BAILEY: Me?
REBECCA: I know, I know. We’ve only known each other like half an hour. How would you know, right? (She takes a sip of water as Bailey sighs.) Did you say something?
A HOUSE in Denver. CLAUDIA is wandering down the halls of her host family’s house, gazing at the pictures of family members that dress the walls. She finds a half opened door and peeks in to see a young girl’s room. She is admiring a shelf of trophies and gold medals as a voice from the doorway startles her.
VOICE: Aren’t they neat? (Claudia turns around to see the youngest member of the family.) I’m a catcher. Four time softball All Star.
CLAUDIA: Oh, hey Andi. I’m not a catcher, but I’m a two time Junior Musicians award winner.
ANDI: (Surprised) Two times? Is that all? My parents said you were the best violinist in New York.
CLAUDIA: They said that about me? (Andi nods.) That’s nice but…it’s also an exaggeration. I haven’t won an award since I was about your age. After that…I kind of gave up for a few years. So to win an award at this level would be a miracle.
ANDI: All it takes is practice, right? Like me and softball.
CLAUDIA: (Pausing to think) Yeah. Kind of like you and softball.
ANDI: (Smiling) Well, my mom sent me to see if you were still busy. We’re starting dinner.
CLAUDIA: Great! I’m starving. (Andi leads Claudia out of the room and down the staircase.) What’s on the menu?
ANDI: I’m not sure, but I should warn you. My mom likes to try new recipes, so it’s kind of hit or miss. If there’s anything you don’t like, just stick it under the table for the dogs.
CLAUDIA: (Half-laughing) The dogs?
ANDI: Yeah, me and Bret do it all the time.
CLAUDIA: That’s okay. I’m sure I won’t have to— (Claudia and Andi enter the dining area, where they notice a large, red hound licking a piece of meat that is skidding across the floor. Andi turns to Claudia.)
ANDI: Looks like were having steak.
JULIA’S BEDROOM. JULIA is sitting crosslegged at a small desk in the corner of the room, her face lit by the bluish glow of her laptop computer screen. GRIFFIN is sleeping in the bed. He opens his eyes and lifts his head, his hair ruffled from the pillow. He sees Julia typing frantically on the laptop.
GRIFFIN: (Glancing at the digital clock on the nightstand) Jul…it’s 2:30 in the morning.
JULIA: (Without looking up) Mmm…yeah, well, the Muse isn’t on Pacific time.
GRIFFIN: Huh?
JULIA: (Still typing) Never mind. I’m fine. I’ll just be a little longer. Go back to sleep. (Griffin sighs and rolls over.)
THE FACTORY. CHARLIE is in the office looking over some papers. JULIA enters and closes the door behind her. Charlie looks up, surprised to see her.
CHARLIE: Hey, Jul. Little early in the morning for a visit.
JULIA: Griffin’s working on his car, so I dropped him off. I’d figured I’d stop in and say hi.
CHARLIE: That’s a nice thought, but I’m right in the middle of something here. (He continues his paperwork.)
JULIA: Charlie…Owen told me what’s going on with you and Kirsten. (This grabs his attention and he looks up.)
CHARLIE: I… Look, Jul—
JULIA: Why didn’t you tell me, Charlie? Why did you hide it?
CHARLIE: Because Owen is the only one who deserved an explanation.
JULIA: How can you—
CHARLIE: Don’t take this the wrong way, Jul, but we both know what would’ve happened if I told you. You’d overreact, then call Bailey and Claudia, and get them all worked up, too.
JULIA: I wouldn’t do that.
CHARLIE: And what? You stop by the factory to see me this early every morning? (Julia thinks about that for a moment.)
JULIA: Okay, I’ll give you that much. But God, Charlie… just because we don’t live under the same roof anymore doesn’t mean we don’t care.
CHARLIE: (Sighing) I didn’t mean it like that, Jul. It’s just…this is something… I dunno. I just need to try and figure it out on my own.
JULIA: But you don’t have to, Charlie. We’re your family, and we’re here to help. All you have to do is ask.
GOLDEN GATE PARK, SAN FRANCISCO. KIRSTEN is sitting under a large tree on a blanket spread out in the grass, reading a book. STEWIE is lying on the blanket, napping. Kirsten puts her book down and leans back against the tree, looking out toward the Conservatory Gardens. She closes her eyes and enjoys the soft, cool breeze. Suddenly she is startled by a voice.
VOICE: “The best friend on earth of man is the tree…” and I guess of women, too, huh? (Kirsten jumps slightly and opens her eyes. They widen and as she sees Pete standing there. He smiles warmly.) Frank Lloyd Wright…sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. KIRSTEN: (Smiling) Pete…wow. I never expected— What are you doing here?
PETE: (Looking around) I just come here to think sometimes…to relax. (Looking back at Kirsten) I’ve got a lot of great memories here.
KIRSTEN: (Nodding) Yeah…me, too. (They look at each other and smile as the scene fades.)
BAILEY’S DORM. BAILEY answers the door, looking surprised to see WILL.
BAILEY: Will, hey. (Will storms in.)
WILL: What’s with you, man?
BAILEY: What are you talking about?
WILL: What do you think I’m talking about? Rebecca. What’s wrong with her?
BAILEY: Wait, I never— She told you I thought something was wrong with her?
WILL: She didn’t have to! She’s been transferring all the problem calls to me. I took that to mean you didn’t exactly sweep her off her feet.
BAILEY: Look, Will…you don’t know this girl, okay? I couldn’t get a word in edgewise all night, which would be fine if I were interested in what she was talking about, but…it was all complaints. Her family, her work, her detached earlobes…
WILL: You’re joking, right?
BAILEY: You think I could make something like that up?
WILL: Man, I had no idea.
BAILEY: Look, it just wasn’t a match, okay? I’m sorry.
WILL: (Sighing) I guess it could be worse. You could have slept with her and never called her again.
BAILEY: Believe me…once she opened her mouth, any thoughts like that disappeared. (Will looks at Bailey.) Not that I had any in the first place.
WILL: Right. (Heading toward the door.) Okay, well…sorry I jumped all over you.
BAILEY: Forget it. (Will begins walking out.) Oh, hey. (Will turns around.) Did you…mention anything to Jean about this?
WILL: Jean? No, why?
BAILEY: Do me a favor…don’t say anything, okay? She’ll probably tell Maria, then Maria will ask me about it, and… (shakes his head).
WILL: And this would be a problem because…?
BAILEY: It’s not a problem. It’s just - I don’t know - I guess I don’t want to have to keep reliving that night by telling everyone about it.
WILL: (Confused) Whatever you say. (Bailey closes the door behind Will and stands there, thinking.)
CHARLIE’S HOUSE. JULIA walks in the front door with OWEN. He immediately runs upstairs, and Julia nearly bumps into KIRSTEN as she heads into the living room.
KIRSTEN: Whoa! Hey, Jul. You’re back early.
JULIA: Yeah. The little monster wanted to come home. Plus I need to scavenge for some supplies.
KIRSTEN: Supplies?
JULIA: You know, like, office stuff.
KIRSTEN: Office stuff? And you’re looking here?
JULIA: Mm-hmm.
KIRSTEN: Julia, you seem to have forgotten: Charlie owns this house.
JULIA: I just need some envelopes. Not the regular ones, but the long manila ones that you can slide a whole sheet of paper into. Charlie keeps ‘em for submitting bids to clients.
KIRSTEN: Oh, okay. Help yourself.
JULIA: Great! Editors hate reading a story that’s been folded and stuffed into a normal envelope. That’ll show I know the ropes even before they read my story.
KIRSTEN: Wait a minute. Jul, you’re writing again? That’s great!
JULIA: Well, the verdict’s still out on that one. I’ll have to wait until The Atlantic Monthly and Reader’s Digest weigh in.
KIRSTEN: I think you’re being too hard on yourself.
JULIA: Not really. ‘Cause you know… this story I’m sending in, I wrote years ago. And the memory I have of it, the way it came about, was perfect. Sort of like… everything came together just to make it happen, and you’re not even sure why it works. (Kirsten looks down, thinking.) But you don’t even question why. All the ingredients were there, you know? It just clicked and made sense…I just loved it for what it was, you know what I mean? (Kirsten bites her lip, trying valiantly to hide her emotions on the subject.)
KIRSTEN: Yeah, I uh… Sure.
JULIA: But now, looking at it through different eyes…well, this might not make any sense, but the luster was gone. All the emotion and passion that was like this beacon for me… I dunno, I just couldn’t see it now. And as I read it, I knew that some of the details might have to be changed, but… the idea…the foundation…I knew that was still there. (Kirsten looks down, and Julia lowers her head, maintaining eye contact.) And I knew it worth saving... ‘cause I really wanted to see it again. (Julia waits for Kirsten’s reaction, and sees she’s struggling to contain her emotions. Kirsten begins crying and Julia knows she’s reached her. The two women share a soft look, and understanding passes between them.)
KIRSTEN: We’d, um… we’d better find those envelopes.
CONFERENCE HALL. CLAUDIA quietly sips her cup of coffee by a refreshment table. She looks out into the room of people. Among them are her competitors in the Welbourne competition. A girl about Claudia’s age approaches her tentatively.
GIRL: Scary, huh?
CLAUDIA: The scariest.
GIRL: (Extending her hand) I’m Lisa.
CLAUDIA: (Shaking hands) Claudia. So… what school are you from?
LISA: Johns Hopkins. You?
CLAUDIA: Juilliard.
LISA: (Impressed) Oh.
CLAUDIA: What?
LISA: Nothing, it’s just… you’re the odds-on favorite.
CLAUDIA: What?
LISA: (Pointing to a student across the room) You and that guy from Curtis Institute.
CLAUDIA: But how…? We haven’t even played a note yet.
LISA: It’s the schools… the resumes speak for themself. (Claudia looks down, taking this in.) Don’t worry – I won’t hold it against you. (Lisa smiles. Just then, a photographer begins gathering the contestants on a small stage.) The adventure begins… (Claudia and Lisa take their places on the first level at the right. They smile with the other 28 violin students as a picture is taken with a flash.)
CHARLIE’S HOUSE. KIRSTEN is in the foyer, leaning against the railing at the bottom of the stairs. Matchbox 20’s “Bed Of Lies” is playing softly in the background. Arms folded, she stares at the large suitcase and duffel bag on the floor beside the front door. She is deep in thought, and hardly notices CHARLIE coming down the stairs. He walks across the room, and places down a garment bag and a briefcase on top of the bags. Kirsten watches, with unchanged expression.
CHARLIE: (Turning to Kirsten) Well…I think that’s everything. I… uh…left the phone number to the apartment on the kitchen counter. Call me if you need anything…if the kids need anything…or, uh, even if you just want to talk. (Kirsten looks up at him, and after a brief moment their eyes meet, and Charlie quickly looks away.) I’ll be by on Sunday to take the kids to go see Santa. (Pausing and looking back at Kirsten) ) You can come with us, if you want.
KIRSTEN: Um…thanks, but…I can’t. I’m meeting Wanda for brunch. If you can pick the kids up before that…like around ten, that would be great. The restaurant’s in Napa so to get there by eleven—
CHARLIE: I have to be at the restaurant for lunch setup at nine. I won’t be finished until at least eleven. I was planning on taking them then.
KIRSTEN: Well, maybe you can you pick them up after that…like around one o’clock, then. I can take them with me.
CHARLIE: The mall is gonna be packed by one. (Getting frustrated) Can’t you just go later?
KIRSTEN: It’s brunch, Charlie. They only serve it between eleven and one. (Softening) But if it’s too much trouble, I’ll call Wanda and cancel.
CHARLIE: (Shaking his head) No…one o’clock is fine. I’ll just have to deal with waiting in line for an extra two hours. (Charlie looks to the side, shaking his head.) I can’t believe it’s come to this. I can’t believe I have to make an appointment to see my own kids.
KIRSTEN: (Sincerely) I’m sorry. I don’t mean to make this any harder than it has to be. I’ll just reschedule with Wanda. Come by whenever you want.
CHARLIE: You sure? (She nods.) Thank you. (Picks up the bags) Well…uh…I guess I’ll see you Sunday. (Kirsten’s eyes fill as he opens the door. He hesitates, turning to her.) You know what I don’t get, Kirsten? All this is happening because I wasn’t spending enough time with you. So how is my leaving going to solve anything?
KIRSTEN: I’m not sure. All I know is that I keep expecting things to get better…I keep waiting for you to come home to me…and I don’t mean coming in late every night and plopping into bed. I mean really coming home… (a tear falls) …to me…and it hurts me so much when night after night…you don’t. (Charlie’s eyes well up.) I can’t live like this anymore, Charlie. I don’t want to be apart from you. But maybe, if you’re not here, I won’t have any expectations…and I won’t keep getting disappointed. I don’t know if this will make anything better, but leaving things the way they are just seems to be making it worse. (Charlie puts the bags down, walks over to Kirsten, and embraces her. She wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tightly.)
CHARLIE: (A tear slides down his cheek.) I love you, Kirsten. I always have.
KIRSTEN: I love you, too.
CHARLIE: (Cradles the back of her head with one hand, kisses her gently on the temple, then steps back. Slowly making his way toward the door, he picks up the bags once again, and turns to her.) I’ll always come home to you. (Forcing a smile through his tears, he turns and exits. As the door shuts, Kirsten covers her mouth with her hand, and sobs.)
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