Episode 14: "Strangers"
Previously on "The Salingers":
MAN: (Showing Charlie his apartment) At first I was trying to do a swap, you know? My apartment for one in Boston. But it was too much of a hassle… You sure you won’t need it any longer than a couple of months? (Charlie hesitates.)
CHARLIE: I hope not.
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BAILEY: (to Maria) Let’s say someone asked you out. 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?
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JULIA: (to Kirsten) I just need some envelopes…the long manila ones. Editors hate reading a story that’s been folded and stuffed into a normal envelope.
KIRSTEN: 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.
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REPORTER: (Regarding the competition) How are you dealing with the pressure to win?
CLAUDIA: The… pressure?
REPORTER: You know, representing your school and all.
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JOE: What are you calling Santoni about?
CHARLIE: He knows the Bay Area, Joe. And it’s not exactly a secret that he’s unhappy with the new management at Frascatti’s, so… if I can figure out a way to lure him away, this might be the answer to our problems.
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CHARLIE’S APARTMENT. Close up on Charlie’s door, and we hear someone on the outside banging on it, shouting, "I know you’re there… I see the light under the door!" CHARLIE approaches the door from the inside, with just a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is wet as he opens the door. Before he can say anything, an attractive WOMAN pushes in without looking up, speaking angrily. Charlie looks shocked.
WOMAN: You really are an ass, you know that? (The woman paces with her back to Charlie.) "Just give me a little time." Ha! So that means you can’t call me on Christmas or New Years or— (She turns around and speaks in a surprised tone.) You’re not Rick.
CHARLIE: No, I’m not. I guess I should be pretty happy about that.
WOMAN: (Looking around the apartment) But… this is his stuff. Where is he? And who are you?
CHARLIE: Well, he’s obviously not here, and… (He thinks for a moment.) You know, it sort of isn’t my place to be telling you anything. I mean, no offense, but… I don’t know you.
WOMAN: Oh, I get it. And you think I’m some kind of crazy broad or something, right? The obsessed, jilted lover?
CHARLIE: I didn’t say that. But this has been a hell of a greeting in the 30 seconds I’ve known you.
WOMAN: You’re all alike, you know that? You’re fine getting the milk without buying the cow, but once a girl makes the mistake of saying how she feels you become… lactose intolerant. Pigs! (Charlie shakes his head, unable to believe what he’s hearing. The woman begins crying, and Charlie opens the door as a hint.)
CHARLIE: Look, I’m sorry he’s not here. Maybe you should—
WOMAN: No, no. I’m sorry. I have no right to… I don’t even know you. It’s just… he hasn’t called, and… (She begins crying harder as she sinks onto the couch. Charlie sighs, closes the door, and hands her a box of tissues.)
PO5 Credits
CHARLIE’S HOUSE. KIRSTEN is standing at the stove in the kitchen, holding the phone with one hand and stirring some rice in a saucepan with the other. OWEN is sitting at the kitchen counter, a mathbook open in front of him next to his backpack. He is leaning on one elbow and scribbling on a piece of paper. STEWIE is sitting in his high chair, eating small pieces of banana from the tray.
KIRSTEN: (Into phone) No… we really haven’t spent much time together yet. Charlie’s still trying to find someone to run Salingers’. (She listens.) Actually, he said he’s going to make an offer to someone this week. But until then… (She pauses again while she listens.) I know he is, Daphne. Charlie always tries really hard. (She sighs) We’ll just have to wait and see. (She covers the saucepan and leans against the stove, listening again. She watches Owen as he scribbles in his notebook for a moment, then puts his pencil down. He reaches into his backpack, pulls out a Gameboy and starts playing.) Yeah. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Thanks. (Kirsten hangs up the phone and walks over to the counter to set it down. She looks down at Owen’s paper, noticing he’s only finished 2 out of 10 math problems.) Hey, O. Need some help with that?
OWEN: (Not looking up from his game) Naw.
KIRSTEN: Are you sure? Because dinner will be a few minutes yet. I can—
OWEN: That’s okay. I’ll do it later.
KIRSTEN: (Thinking) Oh. Okay…
JULIA'S APARTMENT. JULIA is lying on the couch, writing in a notebook. She jots down a few notes, scribbling thoughts here and there, lost in her own world. GRIFFIN walks in carrying a few envelopes.
GRIFFIN: Hey Jul. Here's your mail.
JULIA: (In mid-scribble) What? Oh, yeah. Thanks. Sorry, but I just need to get these thoughts down before they fly right out of my head.
GRIFFIN: Ah, so I'm reduced to "errand-boy" whenever you get inspired? (Julia glows at his cute tone, playing along.)
JULIA: That's right. Now weed out the bills and toss them in that basket. Then bring a bowl of grapes and hand-feed them to me. I'm famished. (Griffin chuckles and goes through the mail for her.)
GRIFFIN: So, is that like a new story you've got going there?
JULIA: (Shaking her head) Just revising an old one. It's easier. I haven't come up with anything new yet so...
GRIFFIN: (Flipping through the envelopes) Atlantic Monthly. Didn't I hear you talking about them?
JULIA: (Quickly off the couch) Griffin, let me see that! (She snatches the envelope from him, staring at it.) I sent them my story.
GRIFFIN: And they wrote back? Jul, that's great!
JULIA: I can't open it. You do it. (She thrusts the letter at Griffin.)
GRIFFIN: Uh-uh.
JULIA: Griffin!
GRIFFIN: Just open the freakin’ thing. (Julia inhales deeply before she tears it open. The joy drains from her face with each word she reads.)
JULIA: They, um... Well, they didn't like it. (She laughs nervously.)
GRIFFIN: But, they read it, right?
JULIA: Yeah, and sent me this rejection letter.
GRIFFIN: Yeah, but—well, c'mon. That's just one place's opinion, right? I mean, it’s not like they’re the Gods Of Story Experts, right?
JULIA: Yeah. I guess.
GRIFFIN: Hey, at least it's not another bill. (Julia flashes a perfunctory smile.)
CINEMAGIC MOVIE THEATRE, PHILADELPHIA. BAILEY, MARIA, WILL and JEAN are sitting in a dark theatre, watching The Majestic. Jim Carrey and Laurie Holden are standing on the balcony of a lighthouse, locked in an embrace, their silhouettes outlined against the glowing sunset. Maria notices Jean giggling after Will whispers something in her ear. She sighs and looks back to the movie screen, then watches as the couple in front of them come together for a kiss, and then the girl places her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Maria glances over at Bailey, smiling, and she begins to move her hand toward his when she sees he is busily searching through the bucket of popcorn , trying to find the unpopped kernels at the bottom. Bailey looks over.
BAILEY: (Whispering) What?
MARIA: Nothing. (She sighs and crosses her arms as Bailey resumes his search.)
CHARLIE’S APARTMENT. CHARLIE sits in the living room with GWEN, the woman who barged in on him. His hair is still wet, but he’s now dressed. She appears to have collected herself a bit as she pets Ziggy, Rick’s cat.
GWEN: (To cat) So he left you behind, too, huh Zig? Shocker. (The cat nestles comfortably in her lap.)
CHARLIE: Well, at least someone’s happy to see you. (Charlie smiles, trying to lighten the mood.)
GWEN: Is that supposed to be funny?
CHARLIE: No, I was just—Gwen, I’m sorry.
GWEN: Very sensitive, Chuck.
CHARLIE: It’s Charlie.
GWEN: I have an uncle named Charlie, but everyone calls him Chuck. (She sighs.) He’s a pig, too. (Charlie shakes his head is disbelief.) I’m sorry. You’re trying to be nice.
CHARLIE: You’re not making it easy.
GWEN: I know. What do you say we talk about something else, huh? Like why you’re here.
CHARLIE: Me? I, um…
GWEN: Have you lived in Boston long?
CHARLIE: (Confused) Boston.
GWEN: I remember Rick mentioning something about swapping apartments.
CHARLIE: Actually, I’m not— (Thinks for a moment.) I’m, um… I’m from Cambridge, not Boston.
GWEN: Oh. But you’re not originally from Cambridge, right?
CHARLIE: I’m not?
GWEN: Well, you don’t sound like a Kennedy or anything.
CHARLIE: Thanks… I think. (They both smile.) I grew up in, uh, Wyoming. You haven’t been there, have you?
GWEN: No.
CHARLIE: (Quietly) Good.
GWEN: What?
CHARLIE: I said… you should. Pretty trees.
GWEN: Oh.
CHARLIE: You want a cup of coffee or something?
GWEN: (Yawning) That would be great. (Charlie heads to the kitchen and the woman makes herself more comfortable on the couch.) So… what’s your story, Charlie? Married?
CHARLIE: (Smiling, as he prepares the coffee) Guess.
GWEN: I’d say yes. And I’d say she’s a lucky girl. (Charlie’s face becomes serious.)
CHARLIE: Yeah? What makes you say that?
GWEN: I don’t know. The fact that I’m a stranger, but you’ve been trying to make me feel better since I walked in your door… even though you’re under no obligation to do so. That tells me you like taking care of people.
CHARLIE: Is that so?
GWEN: And, well… let’s face it. Ninety-nine percent of the guys out there would be thinking, "Hmm… vulnerable chick in my apartment. How can I get her into bed?" (Charlie laughs.) But you’ve made me feel… comfortable. It’s nice. (She closes her eyes.)
CHARLIE: Yeah, well. I admit - a few years ago I’d probably have been part of that ninety-nine percent. But… I guess when you find the right person - I don’t know - it makes it easier to do the right thing… because you’re always thinking of them. (Picking up the cups and heading back toward the living room) I mean, not that I always do the right thing. Who does? But at least— (Charlie walks into the living room and sees that Gwen has fallen asleep. He sits down and looks at the two cups of coffee. He sets the second cup down in front of the cat and takes a sip from his cup.)
CINEMAGIC MOVIE THEATRE, PHILADELPHIA. BAILEY, WILL, MARIA and JEAN are walking out of the theatre. Will and Jean are holding hands. They stop in front of the theatre, and Will puts his arms around Jean and embraces her.
WILL: Mmmm. (Jean giggles. Will leans in and they kiss for a few seconds.) Love you, babe.
JEAN: Love you, too, Willy Bear. (Will starts to walk away slowly, then leans in for another quick kiss. He walks backwards, still holding Jean’s hand for as long as he can until the distance forces them to separate. Bailey and Maria stand awkwardly during the exchange.)
WILL: I’ll call you later.
JEAN: Okay. (She smiles widely. Maria looks at Bailey.)
MARIA: Well, uh…
BAILEY: Uh… see you later. (He starts walking.)
MARIA: Yeah… (quietly) …bye. (Bailey and Will walk away as Jean and Maria do the same.)
BAILEY: (Laughing and speaking in a high-pitched voice) Willy Bear?
WILL: (Punching him in the arm) Shut up, Bay…
SALINGERS’. GWEN is sitting at the bar counter, finishing up her breakfast. CHARLIE sits next to her. A bowl of cereal and an opened laptop sit in front of him.
GWEN: How can you eat that?
CHARLIE: Corn Pops?
GWEN: Not that I have anything against artificial coloring, flavoring and additives. It’s just, these eggs were amazing.
CHARLIE: They’re just eggs, Gwen.
GWEN: That’s what I keep telling myself, but… I don’t know. I feel like I need to have a cigarette or something. (They smile, then Gwen stands up, collecting her things.) Charlie, I want to thank you. You’ve been really sweet. A real gentleman. Almost makes me think all men aren’t…
CHARLIE: …Bacon?
GWEN: Something like that. (She pauses, smiling.) Anyway—
CHARLIE: Don’t mention it.
GWEN: She’s really lucky. Whoever she is. (Charlie looks down, hiding his expression. Gwen leans in and kisses him on the cheek. She walks out as Charlie continues looking down. After a pregnant moment, he walks behind the counter and lifts the telephone handset. He reluctantly dials a number, then exhales heavily as he listens to the rings. He hears his own voice.)
ANSWERING MACHINE: We’re not home right now, but if you’ll leave your name, number and— (He hangs up, dropping his head. The phone rings a second later, startling Charlie. Charlie picks it up after the third ring.)
CHARLIE: H-hello? (A look of relief sweeps across his face.) Mr. Santoni, hey. I— What’s that? (Listens.) No, I was just… I thought it was someone else.
BROWN PALACE BALLROOM, DENVER. CLAUDIA looks at her ticket, which reads "Contestants’ Banquet." She looks out among the other guests who are wearing suits and dresses, mingling with each other. Claudia hears an announcement from a woman on a small platform.
WOMAN: (Smiling) Hello, and welcome to the twenty-seventh annual Welbourne Competition Contestants’ Banquet. In a few moments, we’ll be calling each of the contestants to the stage, where you will draw numbers to determine your order in the preliminary round. (As the woman speaks, Claudia brushes her hands against her long black skirt and approaches the bar. She sees the bartender filling glasses with champagne.)
BARTENDER: How can I help you?
CLAUDIA: Uh… you have any Shirley Temples?
BARTENDER: (Smiling) Sure thing. (Claudia takes her drink and wanders near a hallway leading to the exit. She is trying to fish out the cherry with her straw when she hears a young man’s voice behind her.)
YOUNG MAN: (Quietly) C’mon, Stephan… breathe.
CLAUDIA: (Turning around) Excuse me, are you—? You’re a contestant, aren’t you?
YOUNG MAN: Yes. (Holding out a shaking hand) I’m Stephan. From Oberlin Conservatory of Music. (Claudia shakes his hand. He has dark hair and dark eyes.)
CLAUDIA: I’m Claudia from Juilliard.
STEPHAN: You’re the girl from Juilliard? That’s one step ahead of me.
CLAUDIA: Are you kidding? Oberlin has a fantastic music program! (Stephan rolls his eyes.) So why are you hiding back here by the exit?
STEPHAN: (Shaking his leg intensely) I… just don’t do these banquets very well. I get very nervous especially when they determine our order in the preliminaries. (His leg continues shaking.) You got a cigarette?
CLAUDIA: (Shrugging) I don’t smoke.
STEPHAN: (Smiling) That’s good cause I quit. I remembered that I liked to breathe while playing my violin. (Sighing deeply) But I could really go for one right now.
CLAUDIA: So… why is the order of the preliminaries so important?
STEPHAN: Well, they say the order determines everything. If you’re among the first or last five to compete you’ll have to work ten times as hard.
CLAUDIA: Shouldn’t we be working ten times as hard anyway? We’re all here to win regardless of the number. I mean, if we do our best, order doesn’t matter, right?
STEPHAN: (Shaking his head) I wouldn’t be so sure. When the judges sit down to rank the first contestants, they set their expectations pretty high. At the end they’re so bored they don’t care to listen to you. That makes perfect sense doesn’t it? Anyone would get pretty tired if they had to listen to 30 violin solos. (Claudia shrugs as the woman on the microphone calls the contestants to the stage. She freezes in her spot for a moment before looking back at Stephan’s nervous face.)
JULIA’S APARTMENT. JULIA is sitting at the table, holding a letter. More letters are on the table, already opened, read and cast aside. GRIFFIN takes a beer from the refrigerator, closes the door, and sees her staring at the letter.
GRIFFIN: Good news? (Julia tosses the letter on top of the others.)
JULIA: Same as all the rest. It's worded differently, but... They're all alike. (Griffin sips his beer and thinks for a moment.)
GRIFFIN: But that's all. You still have others out there, right? You know, from places that haven't written back yet?
JULIA: (Letting out a deep breath) Griffin, I— (She composes herself.) I got six rejection slips today, Griffin. Six. Yeah, sure, I expected to get some, but... This many so soon can't be a good sign.
GRIFFIN: Yeah, but it's the same thing as movies. Some people hate the really good ones, and others love just pure crap.
JULIA: Please don't try to cheer me up.
GRIFFIN: No, I mean it. They didn't have to say anything at all about your story. If they didn't like it, they wouldn't have even bothered to write back.
JULIA: They're form letters, Griffin. (Griffin takes another sip of beer, thinking.)
GRIFFIN: Okay, so then... what's the magic number? If you got only three letters, would that've made it better?
JULIA: (Closing her eyes) Griffin—
GRIFFIN: C’mon, Jul.
JULIA: (Tapping the letters) A couple of these are from publications you never even heard of. I didn't even recognize them when I first saw their titles. But they were accepting submissions. Small, little magazines that need stories. They'll accept just about anything, right? (Looking down, sounding depressed) That's what I thought. (Griffin begins to say something, then stops himself, thinking better of it. He continues thinking for a moment before taking another sip from his beer.)
THE BOOKSTORE at the University of Pennsylvania. BAILEY and MARIA are walking through the gift section, looking at UPenn sweatshirts, mugs, etc. Maria watches as a male student puts a UPenn beanie on his girlfriend’s head. They laugh and then kiss. Maria turns back toward Bailey, who is rummaging through a bin full of UPenn apparel. It’s marked "Everything Half Off." He holds a hideous looking pair of UPenn sweatpants up to himself, then puts them over his shoulder as he continues rummaging through the bin. A moment later, he holds up a pair of basketball shorts.
BAILEY: Who would buy shorts when it’s, like, thirty degrees outside? (Maria walks up next to him.) Like a 50% discount is going to entice anyone to freeze off their — (Bailey is interrupted by the couple, who laugh together. The girlfriend tries shushing her boyfriend, to no avail. They’re all smiles.) Man, someone get those two a room.
MARIA: I don’t know. I think it’s kind of sweet. (Bailey continues rummaging through the bin.) Don’t you?
BAILEY: Don’t I what?
MARIA: Ever miss… being with someone?
BAILEY: Being with someone.
MARIA: You know… like a girlfriend.
BAILEY: Oh. Well, sure. I guess…
MARIA: You do? Because I was thinking… well, we do spend a lot of time together, and we always seem to have a pretty good time, so... (Bailey stops rummaging, sensing what’s coming.) So… I guess I’m just thinking, why not, you know? (Looking at the couple) I mean, maybe that could be us.
BAILEY: Oh. Oh, uh… (Sighs) Maria, look, I think you’re great, you know that, right?
MARIA: Okay.
BAILEY: No, I do. I mean, you are. It’s just… (Sighs again) I don’t think I can do that right now… a relationship. (Maria looks down.) And it’s not you, okay? It’s me.
MARIA: (Nodding) I get it.
BAILEY: No, I don’t think you do. (Maria looks up.) Look, it’s kind of hard to explain. It’s just… I’m okay with the way things are right now. It’s sort of a good thing, don’t you think? (Maria looks down, nodding.) Okay, so… so why mess with that? (Maria looks up.)
MARIA: We’re being honest here, right?
BAILEY: (Bracing himself) Right. (Maria takes a breath.)
MARIA: Those sweats. Hideous. (Bailey smiles and exhales as Maria manages a somewhat convincing smile.)
THE CLARK HOUSEHOLD. It’s late at night and CLAUDIA sits on a barstool at the center kitchen island. She is still in her formal attire as she leans her chin against her hand and deeply exhales. ANDI, dressed in a long shirt and sweats, is sitting across from Claudia sipping a can of Coke. MR.CLARK, still in his suit, takes the can away and pours the liquid down the sink.
ANDI: Hey! I was drinking that!
MR. CLARK: I know. (Sternly) Now you’ll never get to sleep.
ANDI: But it’s winter break! Remember what you said about being able to stay up late?
MR. CLARK: Remember what I said about having no caffeine after 9:00? (Andi pouts and stuffs a cracker into her mouth. Claudia smiles at this father/daughter exchange, but her smile quickly fades. Mr. Clark notices this.) Claudia, cheer up. It’s not as bad as you think.
ANDI: What’s wrong?
CLAUDIA: I don’t know why I’m so nervous. I’m usually pretty confident about my playing. (Her voice fades out.) I won’t be able to practice with butterflies in my stomach.
MR. CLARK: Well… I don’t know what to say but you’d better pull yourself together soon. You’ve got preliminaries coming up.
CLAUDIA: I know. I can’t believe I’m number 28. The judges are going to hate me.
MR. CLARK: (Laughing) The judges aren’t going to hate you.
CLAUDIA: But its a disadvantage to be one of the last to perform. The judges get tired… and bored.
MR. CLARK: Claudia. We’ve been a host family before. We’ve seen it first hand.
ANDI: (Rolling her eyes) Tell me about it.
MR. CLARK: Last year we hosted Tamomi Fujishima. She was number 30, and the judges didn’t hate her. In fact, she ended the competition with a bang and made second place overall.
ANDI: Yeah, but she also isolated herself in her room for weeks. We never saw her!
MR. CLARK: (Smiling) She was a worker. Anyway, don’t you think your time is better spent preparing yourself for what you can control rather than worrying about what you can’t? (Claudia takes a breath and smiles.)
SALINGERS’ RESTAURANT. CHARLIE is sitting at the bar, studying a page in an open book on the counter, writing some notes. JOE enters the room from the kitchen, drying his hands with a bar towel, and makes his way over to Charlie. Resting his elbow on the counter, he leans into the bar, and drops the towel down right onto the open book. Looking up at Joe, Charlie removes the towel, not amused. He returns to his work.
JOE: Come on, Charlie. You’ve been on that same page for hours. Why don’t you take a break?
CHARLIE: When I figure out how to make these numbers work, then I’ll take a break.
JOE: You’re working yourself too hard. Sometimes it helps if you walk away from the problem for a little while, and come back to it with a clear head.
CHARLIE: (Not looking up) That seems to be a popular solution these days.
JOE: Look, why don’t you let me have a crack at it?
CHARLIE: Thanks, but I think I’ve almost got it.
JOE: (Looking down, then back up at Charlie) Hey, how are you doing with all this?
CHARLIE: (Raising his eyebrows) Well, like I said, I think I may have worked something out. If I cut back on the number of specials we offer, we might be able to—
JOE: I wasn’t talking about the restaurant. I meant… how are you doing with your situation…with Kirsten?
CHARLIE: (Looks up at him) I’m working on that too.
JOE: I hope the holidays weren’t too rough on you kids. Things will turn around for you, you’ll see.
CHARLIE: (Forces a smile) Well, I was hoping that hiring a new restaurant manager would free up some more time for me to see the kids. I miss saying good-night to them every night, even though they were always already sleeping by the time I got home.
JOE: So… I guess you’re going to go ahead and hire Santoni, then. (His face hardening) That should free up some more time for you.
CHARLIE: (Shakes his head) Not going to happen.
JOE: What? I thought you just said—
CHARLIE: He accepted another offer. He’s going to work at Il Fornaio. So, the search goes on.
JOE: (Pausing briefly) Let me do it, Charlie. Come on, it’s the perfect solution.
CHARLIE: (Shaking his head) We talked about this.
JOE: But Charlie—
CHARLIE: No, wait. (Charlie exhales, collecting his thoughts.) Joe, if it were anyone else - anyone else - I’d say, "Fine. If he thinks he’s up to it, go for it."
JOE: Anyone but me.
CHARLIE: That’s right.
JOE: And that’s what I don’t get!
CHARLIE: (Laughing in disbelief) Joe, what do you think? That I…? (Shakes his head) Don’t you think I would love to let you run this place? I mean, do you have any idea what kind of weight would take off my shoulders? (Joe listens intently.) But I can’t. I can’t. Because if I did, and something happened to you… (Shaking his head) I don’t care how convenient it would be. It would be taking a chance with your health, and that’s just not something I’m willing to risk. (Joe looks down, disappointed. Sincerely) I’m sorry. (Joe looks up, nods, takes the towel from the bar and walks away.)
CHARLIE’S HOUSE, LIVING ROOM. JULIA is with KIRSTEN. She's walking around the room, picking up Owen's toys. OWEN is sitting in the doorway, his back against one side, throwing a tennis ball against the other side and catching it in a mitt.
JULIA: ...and I'd never say this to the editors, or even to Griffin - but what I sent out was my best. I mean, I gave it my all.
KIRSTEN: (Mind wandering, studying Owen) Yeah...
JULIA: And to get this reaction... God! What more do I have to do?
KIRSTEN: (Distantly) I know.
JULIA: And they never even tell you why they don't like it. It's just a flat-out "NO." No comments. No suggestions. Just a "thank you for your submission." And it sounds so smug, too. That the part that always kills me.
KIRSTEN: Um-hmm...
JULIA: And... I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it, you know? To let them make me feel like this. To make me feel this bad about something I love doing. (Kirsten looks back Julia, struck by something she said. She looks back to Owen again, seeing him lost in his own silent world, content in his mundane activity of tossing and catching the ball.)
BAILEY’S DORM ROOM. BAILEY is sitting at the desk in his room, typing away on his laptop computer. He stops for a moment, looking at the screen, pondering something. MARIA sits on his bed, engrossed in a book.
BAILEY: I need to borrow your vocabulary here. This is what I’ve got. (Irritated, Maria looks up from her book as Bailey reads from his laptop.) "Einstein’s Theory of Relativity punctured Newton’s Law of Gravitation, which was considered flawless for nearly 300 years." (Shaking his head) I don’t know. Punctured just sounds kind of…
MARIA: …Lame?
BAILEY: Well, okay. I mean, there’s gotta be another word for puncture.
MARIA: Prick.
BAILEY: Excuse me?
MARIA: Another word for puncture.
BAILEY: Oh. (Bailey types it in then looks confusedly at the screen.) Huh. (Maria shakes her head as Cole pops his head in the doorway.)
COLE: MSG, anyone? I’m gonna grab some Chinese take-out.
BAILEY: Uh, no. I think we’re good.
COLE: Alright. I’m gone. (Cole walks away, and Bailey watches as he exits the dorm. He peeks out of the blinds to make sure Cole’s out of sight, then returns to his room with a smile. He sits behind Maria, who hasn’t looked up from her book. He begins kissing her neck softly.)
MARIA: What are you doing?
BAILEY: Cole’s gone, so – I don’t know – I just figured… (smiling) …we’ve got the place to ourselves…
MARIA: And I’ve got to come up with a thesis by tomorrow… which means I’ve got to read 75 pages tonight.
BAILEY: Oh. Okay. (Bailey sheepishly moves from the bed back to the desk. He looks at Maria, who hasn’t looked up from her book, and sighs.)
THE FACTORY. CHARLIE and KATHLEEN are in the office. He hands her a report. She looks it, nodding as she reads.
KATHLEEN: This is looking good, Charlie.
CHARLIE: Yeah, we're actually a little ahead of schedule. (Kathleen looks at Charlie, and notices the look on his face.)
KATHLEEN: So then, what's wrong?
CHARLIE: Nothing. The line's running great, there are no hitches in production...
KATHLEEN: C'mon, Charlie. I know you better than that. I recognize that look.
CHARLIE: I'm sorry, "that look?"
KATHLEEN: The one where you try to pretend that everything's all rosy, but something's really bugging you.
CHARLIE: I have a look that says all that?
KATHLEEN: Your forehead wrinkles and you squish your eyes a bit.
CHARLIE: Guess I'll have to work on that, huh?
KATHLEEN: I kind of like it, actually. It's the way you used to be. The way I remember you. (Charlie pauses for a moment.)
CHARLIE: Okay...
KATHLEEN: So fess up. What's eating you? (He takes a deep breath.)
CHARLIE: It's just this thing with the restaurant. I need a new manager and the search isn't going that great.
KATHLEEN: That's it? Trying to find a manager for Salingers'?
CHARLIE: Hey, it's not as easy as it sounds.
KATHLEEN: You know... I still have some contacts in this town. I could make a few calls, check around... (Charlie thinks it over.)
CHARLIE: Yeah..okay. It couldn't hurt. (Smiling) Thanks, Kathleen. (She smiles back as the scene fades.)
BOULDER PHILHARMONIC HALL, COLORADO. The audience for the preliminary round of the Welbourne competition has settled in and almost every seat is filled. The air vibrates with energy and there is a tension among the competitors balancing the excitement from the spectators. CLAUDIA sits calmly next to LISA and STEPHAN, her new acquaintances. She breathes deeply and closes her eyes as the first competitor takes the stage.
GIRL: Good evening. My name is So-Ock Kim. I will be performing Chaconne from Bach’s D minor Partita. (Taking her violin to her chin, So-Ock begins to play. Claudia opens her eyes widely when she hears the notes lift off the instrument. They find their own rhythm in the air and Claudia reacts to each note as it hits her ears. She is in awe. She listens with an amazed expression. Stephan nudges Claudia in the arm.)
STEPHAN: I’d hate to be the one to follow that.
CLAUDIA: Yeah, she’s… amazing. (Her expression stiffens as the playing continues.)
CHARLIE’S HOUSE. KIRSTEN is in the kitchen, sitting next to STEWIE who is in his high chair. She’s scooping baby food into his mouth, in between his giggles and hand-clapping.
KIRSTEN: (Smiling) Yes, you just love your applesauce, don’t you? I know. (She scoops another spoonful into his mouth.) Mmm. (The phone rings, and Kirsten looks over at the portable phone on the wall. She sets the jar of baby food down and puts the spoon on the tray in front of Stewie. He grabs onto the spoon and immediately tries to put it in his mouth, but misses.) I’ll be right back. (She walks over to the phone and picks it up.) Hello? (Pausing for a moment) Yes, this is she. Oh, hello Mrs. Mina. I’m fine, thank you. And you? (Kirsten turns around to watch Stewie, who has successfully gotten the spoon in his mouth and is chewing on it.)
MRS. MINA: I’m calling today because I’m concerned about Owen. He hasn’t turned in his last few homework assignments.
KIRSTEN: Missed assignments? That’s odd.
MRS. MINA: Yes, I thought so, too. Owen’s been doing so well and setting such an example, that I was a bit surprised. If it were only that—well, I’ve also noticed he hasn’t been himself in class lately. He’s been a bit… distant… not participating very much.
KIRSTEN: (Thinking) Well, um, maybe with the excitement of the holidays and everything, he’s a little distracted. He probably just needs some time to reacclimate himself.
MRS. MINA: (After a brief pause) Well, I hope it’s as simple as that. Still, you might want to consider—
KIRSTEN: Yes, I’ll definitely talk to him, Mrs. Mina.
MRS. MINA: Thank you, Mrs. Salinger. (Kirsten presses the OFF button on the phone and sets it down on the kitchen table, deep in thought.)
JULIA'S APARTMENT. JULIA is on the couch reading a letter. She's just staring at it, not reading any of the words. GRIFFIN enters, sees her staring at the letter, and takes a step back. He then walks through the room quietly, trying not to disturb her.
JULIA: I know you're there, Griffin. You don't have to avoid me. (He takes a look at the table and sees that the stack of letters has grown.)
GRIFFIN: Oh, I uh... thought you might want to be alone.
JULIA: No, it's okay.
GRIFFIN: Alright...
JULIA: (Looking up) I got some more rejections today. But this one here... It's from a magazine called Rolling Fog.
GRIFFIN: And?
JULIA: Well, they don't want to print my story; they made that pretty clear.
GRIFFIN: What, were they like jerks about it?
JULIA: No…it's another form letter, but it’s weird--there's this handwritten note at the bottom. It's from the editor. She says that she likes my composition and style, and wants to talk to me about a staff writer position they have open.
GRIFFIN: Jul, that's great! (She shoots him a look.) Right?
JULIA: What does that say about me? I'm not good enough to write stories for them, but they'll let me critique other people's stories? Maybe write an ad or two? I don't know if I want that. (Griffin thinks about it for a moment.)
GRIFFIN: Yeah, but Jul... it's still writing. How can that be a bad thing?
JULIA: 'Cause it's not the same. It's not stories.
GRIFFIN: So, what are you gonna do?
JULIA: I don’t know. There’s a phone number…
GRIFFIN: So…(shrugging)…just call. (Julia mulls it over, struggling to come to a decision. After a long moment, she picks up the phone and dials.)
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