how do you do?
it's lovely. homemade.
harvest cake? is'that some kind of cake you make on a.  farm?
you must give me the recipe sometime.
unclean.  uh.  i mean "unpasteurized"? is that safe?
excuse me while i go find someplace to put this. as trudy takes away the cake, a cat rounds the corner. it hisses at stephanie. she takes a step back.
that's strange. hecuba's usually very sweet.
the job of a bank teller must be so difficult. i'd think with all the counting and the repetition, it'd become so tedious.
oh?
your mother must be very proud.
why is that?
does your mother have a drinking problem?
i'm sorry. it's nothing to be ashamed of. and i find your honesty refreshing.
t you've got back bone. not like that other girl ray brought by.  what was her name? alicia? she was dreadful. so ill-mannered. and no ambition.
(stage whisper to
stephanie, am i being too tough on ray? stephanie, happy to be taken into the family circle, winks at ray.
thank you, stephanie. maybe i will try that harvest cake of yours, after all. trudy cuts herself a piece. stephanie tastes the cake and emits a tiny cough.
oh! oh my god! the fly lazily buzzes across the table, slowly circling trudy's head. trudy spits out a mouthful of harvest cake into her napkin. george lowers his fork and pushes away his plate of unclean farm cake. ray is baffled, too stunned to speak. stephanie's gaze shifts to the kitchen door. from the other side, she hears the sound of a hoofs. ray tries to cover for stephanie:
what sound-?
i'm sorry, i can't hear anything.
i think that's best, dear. she heads for the door. ray starts to go after her but his
let her go, ray. she's a sick girl.
i'm telling you not to go after her. ray gently pulls free of his mother's grasp and chases after stephanie.