florrrrr.
florrrrr.
florrrrr.
florrrrr.
florrrrr.
florrrrr. deborah is beginning to feel criticized. she takes a beat. eyes everyone with some hostility.
sublime. deborah feels relief. free for a moment from the dark corridors of self-criticism. she is lighter, prettier, innocent. wholly and completely attractive.
one thousand dollars. deborah falls for it until flor laughs. others join. deborah now a big smile, snort of a laugh, putting her hand to her face and shaking her head.
dancing! the hostess laughs. they are seated at the two ends of a banquette and each automatically picks up her place setting and "scootches" closely together. cristina picks up a menu and points to the prices.
morning. good too. she notices the french toast.
yes. deborah directs her to the most complicated cappuccino machine italian overpriced artists ever devised.
hi. he turns with a start to see flor smiling at him. gorgeous squared. his first word is inadvertent.
solo espaol.
me puedo ir?. go. can go?
gracias. she opens the door and starts to get out though the car is still rolling a bit.
no es nada. he doesn't quite know what that means. indicates same in a little helpless gesture.
just try it on.
just try it on. just try it on.  she's got it.
just try it on.
just try it on.
just try it on. hey?! flor extends a blouse and skirt.
just.
lo siento. no. chum, momentarily depressed, walks away. bernie enters. she is a bit overwhelmed -- her voice breaking a bit even with one word.
she run. john nods and heads upstairs.
new york times.
ah, bravo.
yo leì la crìtica buena. the woman tells flor how to say it in english.
i read your good review. he nods. still the light doesn't change.
it's nice. the light changes.
i do fine. he nods and drives off.
fabuloso.
no.  sorry.
twelve.
no, sorry.
yo vivo aquì.
que? cristina is as nonplussed by the remark as her mother.
que?
cristina.
cristina? she goes to cristina's bed. atop the bed is a note. she picks it up.
simptico, yes. and when he seeks to add another pat, he misses, because she is out of her chair.  he calls out to stop her.
for you.
i slept.
cristina.  she turns. the wad of money in her hand.
engreìdo.
no!
sin diferencia. yo interferì.
no.
culpa, si. por dios, si.
we know. john gestures that there is nothing to be done. flor nods.
good night, mr. clasky.
no te puedo tener haciendo esto por mi. ahora tengo que aprender ingls.
no, dije eso por ti - no por john. that translates to "no, i meant that for you, not john." but cristina does not translate the line. nor.
que?
no. you get more if you keep at it.
now i am like a three year-old. your wife go out.
no. sorry.
i just don't. out of space this school wants her to go for free?
it is too far from our home.
never, thank you.
alright. i look.
no, thank you, evelyn.
may i talk with you?
i need real talk. is it okay? john does not answer immediately. the brief pause is noted.
no?
outside? private?
you know about cristina and your great school?
yes, nuts. i have no idea what to do. such an important thing.
it's a good school?
so you like it?
very right.
you don't have to worry about bernice. nothing is going to change that heart. he looks at her. out of nowhere overwhelmed by someone echoing and affirming his deepest most private thoughts about his daughter. it is odd. being this deeply touched before he knows what hit him. he makes little adjustments until the moment passes.
i "get" it.
it will be okay.
your, "ah, man" was for me? you think i am in trouble with cristina?
i never know a man who can put himself in my place like you do. how do you become that man?
i don't understand.
i want to.
i don't know. but it does not feel good. i think if she goes there it will be one of two things. either she will be odd. or she will make herself the same as them.
yes, you gotta. camera begins to pull back. early in the move john's words stop the movement.
not all crummy. suddenly there is a bit of danger. she rises quickly, changing mode.
thank you, good night. i go sleep.
what?
it's not from me.
i want cristina. i want to talk to mrs. clasky. i want to quit.
oh, yes. where's cristina?
i'm leaving. i have finally.
no.
if you truly don't know why i say "no" let me at last say the reason. at least that will be a relief. have you no idea that i.
go.  john exits to driveway. flor makes one last toss. these tosses have not made a dent in her anger and frustration.
goodbye, chum. another toss and flor follows john out the door.
why?!?
ahhhhh. i never made that sound over a man before.
please!?! mandiln.
arrchhhhhyeeeeiii! for john, the first clear thing he has heard in a while.
i quit this job! his spontaneous and forceful reaction surprises her.
that's the bus stop.
no. drop me at a bus.
okay. then let's do something besides driving me home where my daughter isn't.
and i'm supposed to figure out what because i'm a housekeeper and you don't have to think.
alright, i know. but i can't be responsible no more for making sure nothing happens. that's another terrible job i quit.
excellent. so you're going to figure out what we do, right?
stop there. she points to a mall. he looks at her and pulls in.
maquillaje!
this is me when i'm not working.  you have never seen me!
so, "man," where we heading?
yes, no. lots of people right now is.
you were going to figure this out!
i've never seen your place. very perfect. he heads for the kitchen.
hey. please.  he turns.
we both were not normal because we are angry and we act like we are angry with each other and we are not. i am not. i am glad to be with you. it feels comfortable to be with you. if i just left the job and never spoke with you it would have been sin. you understand?
not so horrible.  his hand keeps going. he now hugs her to him even though they both still face front.  like a loving couple on a walk to the market. his hand squeezes her shoulder.
if the other hand could cheer up, you could lift me up and carry me off. he laughs. he takes his hand from around her. it is a bit awkward.
i don't understand.
just lighting candles and picking music. oooh. she gets up on one of the counters and sits there, her feet dangling. sings along a bit in spanish. he is uncomfortable anew. the nervousness mounting.
no. he gets out a bottle of vodka.
i, uh. don't think you should either.
wait! i think it is so important that we are each clear-headed. he looks at her. a beat. he puts the vodka away. flor beams. we have not seen her smile like this for quite some time.
it is very good that you did not ask, "why?"
i wouldn't have put it so well.
i will remember every taste. forever.
it's something watching you. he looks up at her. she has not been seen like this for a very long time, if ever.  lit up by a man.
don't be crazy. tell me every detail.
soon, please. and now he looks at her.
right now. immediately. we have to dance or kiss. he stands. she stands. he kids just a bit, clowning at weighing the two options and then:
you sure you're not mexican.
i meant you talk like a spanish song.
yes you do. she breaks and heads for the dining room. john has a moment to consider.  he does not have his wits about him. a condition every bit as fearsome as liberating.
this song. you see what a good thing to tell you how you talk like a mexican song.
when i kiss you, entire oceans rush through my veins.  gardens of flowers blossom in my body. he starts to make a comic gesture of awkwardness to get past the event. she shakes her head at him. driving the words -- pointing emphatically. she will not have her poetry laughed at.
and you wander along my fertile soil, picking its ripe fruit. a nightingale undresses on my tongue. and under its wings.  he laughs. she stops cold. looks down. though just seconds long, this still constitutes the first depression of her life.
then respect this. he looks at her. they kiss. it is a kiss without an author. god at the controls. they break. there is a beat then.
did they on yours?
oh, johnny, why is everything so damn confusing?
is your mind racing?
like happy?
you think that will last?
i understand what you mean.
that it's getting late. that responsibilities have entered your brain. don't hide that from me. and really, one large reason we are here is because you respect me as a mother and i respect you as a father.  he is looking at her. she is disconcerted.
you are a beautiful father. she looks at him. they kiss. tenderness. heat. intimacy.
when cristina was young, i would say i want to take any man who wants me to the park and i will tell whether i want him from the way he is with cristina. i wish you had been in the park then. any reaction? john considering and then the answer comes to him.
you know, i always think about when you. oh, there's no point. i talk too much.  . because i don't know if we ever talk again.
yes you do. be honest.
what are we going to do -- go home, let our hearts go back in our bodies, see each other a few more times. make a tragedy out of us.  she kisses him again. starts to cry. looks at him. emits a small cooing sound.
ahhhhhhh. there are some mistakes you cannot risk when you have kids. please, are you ready to go?
the mistake. i love it.
no.  no. and we must say "goodbye." i don't work here anymore. she then talks spanish to cristina. admonishing her not to embarrass them. something about flor being prepared to go nuts all over her daughter if she hurts their dignity. but it is said with total calm.
no, georgie. stay. i think you are a wonderful boy. be good. like you are. there are no monsters.
get me wet.
you're a beauty. amazing girl.
i'll be in front. upset, cristina runs off. she kisses bernice. and walks toward the house. as she passes under the bedroom.
no. it's a good question. a fine question. complicated. i was just thinking to answer.
no.
we weren't close. but we were connected. in a bad way.
i can only tell you what i did.
i became sure of what an incredibly lucky woman you are and i must make myself not envy you which is hard. no, it's not hard. it's impossible. now please. i am exhausted.
cristina, aprate.
yes, cari.  the gate opens and a sniffling cristina is holding an armful of loot.
cristina.
yes. they turn and begin walking down the street.