ladies and gentlemen -- i'd like to propose a toast in honor of our cause for celebration tonight -- the engagement of our daughter, alice, to mister peter vanlaningham.
fill 'er up. hi-test.
you were there?
did she? didn't see you. you going to be an engineer like your dad was?
hmmm.  i guess some people care more about having ideas that they do about making money.
that full suspension file drawer your dad invented is still in production, did you know that? we'll ship thirty-maybe-forty thousand of those file cabinets this year. hell, that drawer put midwest steel desk on the map.
an architect, huh?
you want some free advice?
don't waste your life making other people rich. keep the change.
stay away from him.
jacey.
because i said so.
just stay out of it, joan.
it doesn't matter what you think, it's their business. alice is a spoiled brat, but she's peter's problem now. so just take one of your pills and go watch jack paar, see what he's crying about tonight.
what are you doing out here?
get in the car.
congratulations, helen.
hmm.  christ, i forgot.
bryn mawr. i should be able to remember that. it costs enough.
and doug -- he's going to?
same school as.
right. well. congratulations.
alice?! is that you?
alice?
who are you talking to?
you can talk inside. it's late.
i have plans for my daughters, mr. holt, and they don't include you. i know you. i know you better than you know me. i know all there is to know about screwing your way into a wealthy family. i'll never let you screw your way into mine.
call the police, joan.
behind you, mr. holt.
now, get out of here, you runt stud. and keep your poor-boy dick out of my daughters.
what do you want?
shut the door.
smoke?
sit down.
then don't. i'm sorry about your mother.
you didn't know your mother at all if you think someone like me would've ever stood a chance with someone like her. that just goes to show you how stupid this town is -- that they'd believe she slept with me. that'd make charlie laugh. your old man was my best friend. he used to call me 'egg-head' -- hell, everybody did. and back then everybody knew that egg-head abbott didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell with helen riley. of course, that was all before i became lloyd abbott -- mr. abbott. that was back when i still had chicken shit on my shoes and twelve cents in my pocket. charlie holt was the only one good enough for helen. i used to spy on 'em -- yup, i did. used to watch them sit on the front porch of her house -- your house -- and watch 'em talk.
and talk. i never knew what to say to a girl. never could just talk. could dance, could listen to the radio. but i couldn't talk.  except with your mother, except with helen. i talked more to her after your dad died than i'd ever talked to any woman before then -- or since then. jesus, i talked. just like this. just like right now. just pouring out. helen would listen and whatever i said, she'd never make me feel bad or ignorant or guilty. i mean.  for christ's sake, she never blamed me for what happened at the lake, for letting charlie drive out on that ice. she never did anything but try to make me hurt less and i.
get out of here!
goddammit, joan, go way! get the hell out of here! leave me alone!
i wanted sons -- isn't that funny? i wanted sons and i got three daughters. i wanted a woman i could talk to and i got a woman whose ears are stuffed full of money and percodan. but i got the chicken shit off my shoes.
my shoes are clean. i know that's what jacey thinks. i could always tell by the way he looked at me -- even when he was a little boy -- like i owed him something. but, goddammit, he's wrong. that bet was your father's idea and i never meant your mother any harm. i would've done anything for her -- anything. i loved her. but the only thing she ever wanted from me was just for me to leave her alone.
so, what do you want?