don't worry. i'm not mad. i was looking for decoration to put on the glass so people would stop walking into it and instead of taking what they had in stock, which was awful, i special ordered. i'll design something myself which i should have done in the fi.  our heroine, seeing the blood flow from her aunt's nose, gestures that monica needs help not conversation.
and what difference does that make when your nose is bleeding. shut up, deborah.
here, take these. was that strange to give you money. i just felt badly that.
so who am i interviewing?
you're gorgeous. on our gal. as she, not understanding the word, smiles and nods.
this is my daughter bernice and this is my mother, evelyn norwich.
no, stay. this involves you.
you guys want some lemonade? let's just talk. i have two children. my husband works nights. he's a chef and has his own place.
i helped run a commercial design company until ten months ago when
it was downsized to zip. okay. i have two children. i like the house to be like me in that i'm very loose and meticulous at the same time. it's all about first names and closeness here but i care about the place, you know. it's what they used to call homemaker.  the two visitors exchange a wide-eyed look. which deborah sees and understands.
i'm not leaving time for you to translate. monica says, in spanish, "this woman is very strange. the only thing i understand is she has two kids." deborah leans into monica. face to face, tender but unblinking.
too bad for you that it just never occurred to you to check on how much spanish i know.
i don't speak any spanish. but i'm not an idiot - i talk for an hour and you say two words. what did you say? monica squirms - unusual for her.
never mind. you got your nose bopped. i got my feelings hurt. onward. as monica paraphrases what has happened, her translation is dialed down for the:
what's your name? llamo? one of my five spanish words.
flor. she pronounces it flat like the "floor" we walk on. throughout the following each of the women sticks to their pronunciation as indicated by the extra "r's.
flor.
flor.
flor.
flor. what i walk on?
is there some school of the ear i'm flunking out of right now? flor says to monica, in spanish, a tip to pronounce her name. monica warns flor to leave it rest. since deborah is becoming clearly and strangely pissed.
what did she say?
she gets me.  she smiles at flor, who returns the smile.
you want some lemonade? take some lemonade. she pours some for flor and monica. then she closes her eyes and pauses in utter dedication to a final effort:
florrrrr. it is perfect. flor grins at deborah's victory. claps her hands together.
whew, dense but stubborn, right? thanks. what you just did with me is just what kids need. patience and encouragement. alright, money.  bernice rises like a shot to take off.
love you.  .  the job is six days a week, seven to seven. the kids and all housekeeping, how much a week would you like? monica translates. flor, embarrassed a bit by the directness, ducks the question. saying in spanish -- "whatever you say"
no.  this is an important question. if you ask for too little it means you don't value
welcome to the family.  deborah kisses her. sort of on the mouth. in the midst of flor's delight she is thrown by deborah's kiss. it is the first of many borders to be violated.
we can do it. come on. she falls over the roll. getting filthy. but it gives and they gain momentum. one of the catering women falling down, one losing pace.  deborah,however, gains the upper hand. yet, even while succeeding, she remonstrates herself.
why.  do.  i.  care.  so.  much.  about.  crap? and now she wins.  the cylinder of grass rolls all the way out and she jumps on the seam in victory. she is dirty, spent and triumphant. the components for a solid sexual experience. and, in truth, as the exhausted caterers half- heartedly applaud the bizarre victory, she has gotten off. she looks with mother's pride at the lawn. then sees john.
can you believe they left without finishing? as she looks at her handiwork - john looks at her. a grin. half laugh.  he loves the dame.
looks great, huh?.  you're not looking.
i better get dressed again in case anybody's just a half hour late. she hits a switch at the door and the backyard area is now fully illuminated -- set up for a dinner party for 20 or so. all details thought about and done to a "t". this is the outdoor lighting nobody nails. the twinkling of a half acre. the path to the pool like a runway to heaven. as she looks at it all she has a wistful moment.
okay. we're okay here. why can't everything be like sod? there's no wait, no dung, nothing you have to do right and yet it's perfect. it covers up all your dirt and makes things immediately pretty. then, the miracle, if you just give it time, it roots and you can't tell it from the real thing. no reaction. nothing to say.
oh, john why don't you just take out a knife and kill me all together. somewhat crushed, she prepares to exit.
that's actually a good question.
i would have liked, if after i compared the sod to life, if you had said, "exactly!" she turns to leave.
it's worth a try. i had something else to tell you. it'll come to me.
hi, flor. see you up there. deborah runs past. she is clearly upset. she is also more than a stay-in-shape jogger. she is an athletic woman fueled by an ever flickering pilot light of anxiety. this makes her seriously quick. she is highly aware of passing everybody. she needs to pass everybody. her voice trails behind her as she announces to all as she approaches"left, please," "left," "left."
tough day. bernice prepares a plate for her mom while, in the b.g., a golden retriever named chum approaches flor from behind with a ball in its mouth. flor is checking out the kitchen.  what's in each drawer, etc . deborah is impressed by the self-starter display and indicates same to bernice.
right. mean ol' me. i can't play right now. i have to do something about your brother.
oh, it's good. oh god, it's rich -- oh god, it's good.
by the way, you could do without this. the approval rug pulled out from under her, bernice looks at her mother. but deborah is unaware of having hurt her daughter because her attention has been diverted so that deborah and the camera lose focus on bernice as the teenager, distraught, moves from the room.
no. no! flor!. never do fetch. chum is nudging flor with the ball and flor was about to accommodate him by taking it before deborah's warning shout stopped her in mid-sentence.
i mean it, never! on flor's stunned reaction to the outburst.
i'm not mad. i'm thinking of you. this is me being nice.  then using her hands to demonstrate.
just no taking ball from dog. trust me on that one. close up on chum going nuts with deborah's hand passing in front of his face ignoring how urgently he offers the ball.
you and me. we are fine. just a tip. girlfriends. could you make some coffee? cafe?
yes. yes it is. so stop being so maniacally calm.
i can't be wrong about that too. this is a fight. we're having a fight. yo, i feel anger. deborah turns from the sink revealing one brown eye and one blue. she blinks, realizes one lens is not in and turns back to the sink.
can i have a moment? john exits into the.
okay. let's get someplace here.
you, mister, are crazy making. i can't take this calm thing you've
started doing. it's like this is your way of letting me know there's something deeply wrong with me because i'm not calm.
if you're going to talk to me please have the decency to raise your voice.
what are you talking about? he signals her with his eyes and head and then takes a large but tentative step away from the spot where he was standing. then additional faster steps. he gestures with enormous energy for her to follow him to his new spot in the room. she eyes him suspiciously.
you're ridiculing me because i care about this.
let me ask you a question. let me change the subject. forget for a moment that you won't support me with georgie.
here's the question. it's been on my mind more and more. do you do that calm thing for the purpose of infuriating me?
okay. he hates that look of isolation on her face. he needs to make her feel better.
i don't.  believe you. i think you just want me to feel badly about myself. sorry, honey.
all she has to do is dial 9-1-1 and press two for spanish. flor. john. this is flor.
no. i'm doing it. show flor the ropes. flor is trying to figure out what's expected of her then deborah gestures impatiently for her to fall into step and come with her.
fuckin' hombres, huh? she sniffles. flor nods uncertainly. a small voice from the back seat. georgie.
it doesn't do any good now, georgie. she presses a button on her dash and a glass partition comes up between front and back seat thereby cutting him off in mid- song. flor is utterly baffled by the notion of putting a divider between parent and child. but deborah is calling for her to pay attention to the car's navigation screen.  a spanish voice says, "route guidance system starting."
i've programmed it for spanish.  look, it will take you anywhere and then back home. if you figured out how to make coffee on that thing it's all downhill. the male spanish voice talks about imminent left turns. flor is thrown by the amount of oddness. all the while georgie is singing his little heart out in the back seat. flor,amused by the boy, suppresses a smile. maybe the first time in her life she's had to suppress joy. but deborah never misses anything.
this is stop gap. you, kiddo, you're going to have to learn english.
oh, mother. it's not even noon.
god, where is this day going. flor could you come with me?
surprise new clothes.  bernie gasps. as she looks at a sweater.
warehouse sale.  bernice tries on the sweater over her t-shirt. and mirth ends. the sweater is tight. bernice picks up a blouse and then skirt and checks the size.
she's right between the two sizes. i thought about it. what am i supposed to do encourage her. what is it? - denial? or motivate her to get herself in shape. flor tries to slide by. something surreptitious in her behavior. deborah suddenly turns to flor.
flor.  she holds out her hand in a "we women understand" gesture. flor does not waver. just meets her eyes.
sure. go.
left. left.
left. and then passes.
i don't know. she rips at her own clothes and then exclaims in passion.
oooohhch!
oh, damn it --- what am i going to do? everything seems so surely pointless.
yeah? he scoots to her side.
something else i do wrong. she grabs something and starts walking toward the bedroom.
if i stay, i will say awful things to you that i might not even mean. you pick.
so you gave away twenty percent of the restaurant without talking to me about it.
remember the other day when you asked me the perfect response to something i said?. i'm asking you now. what would you like my response to be to your giving away twenty percent of the business without asking me?
okay! so that would be???
i'm not quite there. actually, i just had this flash that the reason women in the old days used to faint was to avoid doing acts of violence against men. and i was all worried about figuring out the timing just to talk to you about renting a place for the summer.
be right out.
mom, you want to come?. the realtor's here. okay, see you later. she clicks the gate open and walks to the man. perfect 40 year old great looking surfer sort. deborah does the very slightest of "takes" at his looks. as she gets in.
hi.
i'll never be one of those girls whose hair blows perfectly in a convertible.
oh, you must be trouble. on his small laugh.
gorgeous, huh. pretty, fabulous, beautiful. what word is the same in spanish?
thanks.
i don't care if it's a rental. this place is getting a fixing. she leads flor to a small bedroom.
this will be yours.  flor doesn't understand. certainly doesn't want to.
come on. there's no buses from her to here. there's no question. double come on.  deborah uses her hand as if weighing something momentous like the law vs. the bible then with heavy sarcasm.
the barrio - carbon beach. the barrio - carbon beach. what to do? don't worry. i'm putting nicer stuff in here too. when flor gives no indication of anything - just standing, somewhat stupefied. deborah takes her by the hand and leads her out.
you must learn english. why won't she learn english? i'm going to have to learn, "you must learn english," in spanish.
gee, you took the words right out of my mouthay.
oh, good. do you speak english?
would you translate for me? he looks at flor. my god.
wait till i say something before you start in.  i rented a house here for the summer and now she must sleep at the house because of the bus schedule. he translates along with deborah's speech.
what? why? flor talks briefly in spanish.
you have a daughter? you have a whole daughter you haven't mentioned. how old?
it's a little crazy that i don't know that. the man translates.
don't translate asides. the man says in spanish to flor"you work for her?"--flor answers, "just tell her that i can't live here." deborah doesn't like that the man has initiated more conversation.
hey!
okay.  her daughter can also live with us for the summer.  the man tells flor. she answers directly to deborah.
why? the man asks flor who speaks in spanish.
will you please just tell me what she said.
let's spare the world you on the roads. well, what do we do? the hispanic man translates the last sentence. deborah and flor stare at each other. deborah's next words are somber and have enough body language to transcend the need for translation. the jig is up.
i'm sorry, my friend, this is what i need. it's just for the summer. i don't want to lose you. but .  flor indicates there is no need to translate. a beat.
look at this child. flor, you could make a fortune at surrogate pregnancy.  flor looks to her daughter for some understanding of what deborah said.
hi. this is my daughter, bernice. i'm deborah. and out there. are georgie and.
very little accent?
right. settle in.
hey, cristina. hey. hey. what are you doing up? cristina looks around -- then up.
i know. would you believe i had to talk my husband into this? would you believe i had to talk my husband into it?. do you hear me?
do you want to come with me? -- i'm going to the flea market.
it's the rose bowl.  miles, actual miles, of great things for sale for god's sake. we can have brunch in pasadena.
i'll leave her a note. i'll
with great energy born of bottled fury, flor begins to go through her daughter's things. finding her backpack and extracting a spanish. english dictionary.
stop thanking me. i love having the company.
your english is genius. do you dream in spanish or english?
what was it?
you could have just said you didn't remember.
look who's sensational.
what? something bad happen?
cristina, tell your mother i just played around with your hair. she can put it back. no hurt feelings.
what? --
nuh-uh, mom. don't go there. or i'll go there and you know where "there" is. evelyn stops on a dime. she leaves. deborah crosses to bernice, who is highly concerned about flor, and puts an arm around her. a pleasant surprise.
can you believe what flor is making this into. shoot me if i ever get that hard to deal with. bernice, unseen by mom, does a long, muted, mock scream.
what's this? flor shakes the letter at her.
from? flor with enormous emphasis stabs her finger at her own chest.
you are not yourself. this was written in anger. you sleep on it and then if you still want me to have it -- fine. i don't think you will once calm and rational thought returns. just sleep on it. deborah exits to a bathroom and closes the door. leaving flor in the hall with the letter. cristina reveals herself and explains the situation to her mother. the last word we hear before scene's end is "maana."
what!?! insensitive? elitist? irresponsible? perverse? dizzy?
when is anyone in this damn house or this damn life going to consider my feelings? i just tried to make a lovely kid feel welcome. there's no reason to rake it over. i let it go. and gave flor the room to let it go. which i'm sure she has! it's over!! so get on board.
i am deeply and sincerely sorry to have upset you. especially in light of the deep connection, as women, i believe us to have.
and that thing is??? bernice deeply resents the question. she turns to her mother.
look at you girls.
cristina's already read, on her own, everything on bernice's summer reading list. and she's two grades behind. imagine if she went to bernice's school. and they'd kill to give her a scholarship.
yeah. she's so open to new things.
can't find my keys.  another woman, arlene folsom, calls to her.
hi, arlene.  come on. they walk to greet arlene.
hi. this is cristina. the girl i'm always raving about. this is arlene folsom. the school director.
nuh-uh, flor you are not pinning this one on me. i've got to finish packing up.
we ran into the school head. they want diversity. cristina knocked her out. i had nothing to do with it. by the way, the scholarship is worth twenty thousand dollars. and early registration is tomorrow.
you could move in with us in town.
okay, then don't. by the way. the phrase is "no, thank you."
i picked up your books yesterday.  this is one of bernie's old. ancient backpacks. cristina taking it.
i got you a little first-day-at-a- new-school present.  a school bus appears and heads toward them putting a certain deadline pressure on the transaction.
it's from me and. bernice. okay? it is a big day. flor's uncertain reaction is taken as a yes.
it's from all of us. your mother too.
have a great year, girls.  this is so great. it fills your heart, doesn't it? deborah turns and sees flor has already started doggedly up the hill.
left. left. flor does not alter course though she does start to walk faster.
left. left.  deborah is close behind now.
why am i not surprised you're competitive? deborah looks up the street at a delivery truck.
oh, they're delivering my table. flor stays on task . forces her stride. she just needs to win so very much. that's all. to her current surprise, that's everything.
you are fast.  better pace yourself though.  flor, even more upset and provoked by the words now lets it all out.
i love you for trying.
flor? deb. look, sorry to call you so late, but they're still studying and i'm going out but i promised to get her back so if you want me to cut off the school work, fine. whatever you want me to do. well, okay. you think about it.  and hey, if you're tired, or want to play, let her sleep here and i'll get her back there tomorrow. you still want to think about it? okay.  she hangs up. and exchanges a mischievous look with cristina.
"honey?"-- can't now, mom. i'm late. i was looking all over for you. keep an eye on the kids. you know my secret cell number.
what is it? are you buzzed?
one thing. go ahead.
you've done it again, mom, made me hate myself. one of the things i can count on.
here i am.
"baby?" stay there, john. sit down. i suddenly get what i have to do. i just have to get the guts.
not so easy.
do i ever hope so. i've been seeing another man for the last eleven weeks and it was nothing and i ended it tonight. at first it was just keeping an eye on the real estate market. then it was. what? me being insecure and looking for some ridiculous vali.
just what did you hear?
i met him about.  john holds up a hand to stop her. he needs to gather himself to hear this. she waits. and waits. as he waits he grows flushed and stunned with dread. finally a word.
i met him.  he puts up his hand.
so far i've just been talking about a flirtation because the really important thing for you to know.
i've been trying to explain that for the first ten weeks there was almost nothing to .
is this your way of.
i know you're very angry?
john? i think if you let me tell you the full everything of this we'd be in a position to deal with it better. because eleven weeks ago when.
yes.
i made up my mind that i would answer every question you had. i'll answer anything and everything and more.
are you really that much nicer than me?
no. please, please, please. i think if you listen to exactly what happened and then do whatever you need to. we'll. just let me tell you everything.  the doorbell rings. it's quite late. deborah wondering what's up. she looks out the window.
oh, it's just flor.
then, when i was driving back tonight after i ended the whole yuck thing. i was feeling human. i'm done with what's his name. a relief.  . and now it can be like it never happened and then i thought that the only hope was that i own that it did happen and that i take my medicine here. because if i'm walking around with what i did and you don't know what i did. there is a real limit to how close we can be. you're with me and i'm this person who has this bad secret and we aren't really on the same page ever again. so the reason i took this chance in telling -- is because i want us to be good. i want us to be close. i want to feel like you're not nuts to be in love with me. so what i think is we should talk till we pass out .  talk till we're so sick of each other that there's nothing left to do but take the first step out of hell. so please let's not leave this room until you've heard and said everything. please say, okay.  she awaits his answer. he has heard barely a few words.
john.
you've got to say something.
tell me again why i can't call him on the cell.
yes.
mother, you're enjoying this.
you are enjoying it?!?
there's one thing i'd like to say to you about you and me.
i want to.
you were an alcoholic and wildly promiscuous woman during my formative years so that i am in this fix because of you. it is your fault. i just needed.  . that moment for us.
there's a car coming.  evelyn moves to her.
it's him. he's got to tell me everything.  evelyn shakes her head "no."
yes!
duh.
huh?
but i've got to know whether he touched her - where he touched her - how he touched her - if they broke a sweat --- what they said - who made the first move - how they left it -- if anyone loves anyone or has an intention of making contact in the future - what she wore - how he felt afterwards - whether anyone mentioned me.  . whether they held hands when they left.  the distinct sound of a door opening and closing from downstairs.
i know you're right. but.
i forgot the sentence you said i should say.
okay. do i have to wait here?
why wouldn't he come up here?
do i need a little makeup?
thank you, mom. she takes a breath exits.
i'm so glad to see you . that you're back. john looks up at her - not knowing what to say. he is thrown. his demeanor has changed. deeper. serious.
well, i just wanted to say.  what i said.  she is on the stairway. he turns to go in the opposite direction.
uhhhh.  he turns back to her. she stops herself from straying into untried words but gestures whether he is coming upstairs to bed.
i'm just so glad you're back. deborah's suddenly classy demeanor provides just the barest of footings for them. he looks at her directly for the first time since she told him.
i am literally choking on unsaid words. seriously. if this were a restaurant ten people would have their knuckles in my sternum.
please come see me. and then a crying cristina appears on the deck. flor glances up and keeps moving underneath the deck where she faintly hears the beginning of their exchange
please stick your head in here for a minute. flor nods and starts up the stairs.
what's with avoiding me, am i this horrible person? as flor just looks at her.
i know. it's a ridiculous question but sometimes i'm ridi.
oh stop. come on. weren't we close?
well, i'm very, very disappointed to hear that. it makes me feel like a fool.
you know something, i think we're saying the same thing. look as long as we're doing closure. what did you and my husband, john, do last night? flor pauses for less of a beat than we would have imagined.
that will be sufficient.
same here - believe me. deborah would hug. but it's only an eighth of a gesture because flor has turned to exit, calling for her daughter to hurry as she goes.