nephew, i'm your aunt. agnis hamm.
you sick? it's nine o'clock.
losin' your wife, your folks, and your job'd depress anybody. it's a wonder you don't sleep all day.
thought i'd stay a day or two. give you some relief with th.
i got one in the car.
so she wasn't just a bitch in high heels?
don't stress. she mighta heard worse from her momma. i'm only guessin'.
people. are a cynical lot.
i think the evidence. is on your side.
i'm headed north, nephew, to where our family comes from, in newfoundland. thought i'd never go back. but the older y'get.
there's a pull. becomes an ache. as if where your people started held a purpose for you. like you're a piece in a puzzle.
lookin' for where y'fit.
you, too.
you need to come, nephew.
nothin' here but hurt. you got to start fresh, everythin's gone!
the trip'll clear your head. be educational for the squirt. teach ya the world's still spinnin' outside this toxic slice o'hades. and who knows?
they must have a newspaper up there. somebody's gotta write it.
tell the truth, i'd appreciate the company. you two are pretty much my family.
a pot o'coffee would hit the spot. drop o'whiskey would fit nice in it.
which one's my brother?
coffee. and maybe a sweet.
she needs to go outside.
what say, guy? the dumpster?
just a thought.
they draft off our air currents, it's quite premeditated.
they actually know the ferry schedule. show up on time better'n the newfies.
image of m'sister, feeny. she's married to a falconer in arabia, now. has to wear a black
nice. to be with family.
'specially big shots. who can land a job with one phone call.
on the map, here. quoyle point. named after us. you.
empty 44 years. and look at that roofline, straight as a ruler.
up those stairs, aunt pinkie slept. so fat she couldn't get down to her chamber pot. wanna see if she's still there?
well. too late to drive that road back 'round the bay. we'll camp in here tonight. be right as rain.
only i weren't born. on the riviera.
flour sack cove. what time's your interview at that paper? ten o'clock?
the drive's a bitch. we'll buy us a boat.
nephew, we can't fix up the house proper on a journalist's wages. so i have un-retired.
upholstery. been sought after for 33 years, wherever i've lived. this should be the real test, huh?
this is dennis buggit, master carpenter.
with me workin', we'll need day care for bunny after school. turns out dennis and his wife send their little girl to this wonderful saintly woman. how's that for us livin' a charmed life?
well, course we're buy.
never said not. ask better questions, you got a chance fer better answers. got my shop set up in killick-claw, now.
two good workers. mrs. mavis bangs is an old plow horse like m'self. but dawn.
dawn's young and on the sexy side. you oughta drop by and say hullo.
upstairs, in what will soon become her room. she'll be all right.
warren died today. that's what that means.
i used to live with someone named warren. died of cancer, after nine years together. dearest soul on this earth.
went from the funeral, and bought that dog. named her warren. just so i could say the name a hunnerd times a day. women are foolish, huh?
bunny wants to bury the dog with me. but i told her i'd rather do it alone.
some advice about the child?
don't get down on her level, the way you do. she'll never respect you.
you were a good girl, warren, no trouble a'tall.
nephew, this is mavis bangs. a real professional.
and this is dawn budgel. she's a vegetarian.
silver melville? snuck off in the night, they did. not a penny paid for all we done.
we'd installed the banquettes in her salon. three of the chairs done and delivered, three to go.
strange. leavin' the chairs.
what? my hem crooked? as if i was wearin' a hem.
it's flatterin' you showin' me how you've turned into such a competent reporter and all. but even if i remembered where i sent 'em. i couldn't tell ya.
professional ethics.
she'd call me, time to time. husband was a pig. more women should do what she done. her situation.
of a loss. but not the dog.
what makes us do that, nephew? give ourselves away to someone. so we can't eat or think or breathe without 'em?
wonderful, ain't it?
irene warren died. the mornin' after a christmas. we get one true love in life, nephew. she was mine.
don't mean we can't give love again. and get some back.
and if that ruffles some small town feathers.
nephew. you okay?