i brought some dessert. as he moves on, we see in the background the workers unwrap and react to a fantastic concoction. a caterer falls in beside him and whispers to him.
i was getting a kick looking at you look at it. not the answer she wanted.
huh? oh sure. i, uh. well, no, i don't have anything particular to say.
how'd you get there. hey, wait a minute. deb. stop. come on. i'd like to figure this one out. what would have been the great thing for me to say after you said the sod sentence?. really.
there you go. i surprise sometimes.
yeah. but to say that and mean it i'd have to think the same way you do.
okay. think seriously about getting up. you don't have to get up yet but are you thinking seriously about it?
okay.
yes. actual up.  georgie gets up.
yeah, good morning.
no, georgie, i'm not.
uh. okay, no.
this isn't an argument, honey.
no. it's not. because i understand your side.
let's not go all over the place. can't we.
let's make a break for it.
just for a second. she walks to him. he puts an arm around her shoulder. and gestures back to where they were standing. he talks in an almost hushed, conspiratorial voice.
we don't have to be those people. nobody's watching. they've been masquerading as us for a while here. i'll distract them - you make a break for it and i'll meet you outside.
no. i'm not. i mean this. let's get away from those two in case they're as miserable as they look.
come on, baby. he is looking at her with wit and conviction. trying to squirt lighter fluid at the flame of their love. deborah looks up at him. intimacy of a different sort.
well, i don't think.  she makes a noise of frustration to stop him. it works. john is rendered still and intimidated by her conduct but he is "man" enough for his jaw to set. to pause for a beat as he looks her straight in the eye. and walks back to the spot they occupied previously.
go ahead.
what? why would .  why would anyone do something to someone they love for the purpose of messing them up?
deb, since high school we've been able to read each other. take advantage of it. the answer to the question is,"absolutely not." now take a look and tell me if you believe me.
great god in heaven save me. boy meets girl.
whoa. whoa. i didn't know deborah had found someone.  you work here? you're going to help with the house and kids?
you work here and you don't speak any english at all? the sound of feet on the stairs. deborah and georgie enter.
hi, flor. deborah reacts, grabs some coffee and pushes georgie along.
look, i'll take georgie to school.
sorry.
no. it's me. you're the new helper, huh.
no. no. it's okay. it's me being bugged. two people head for john almost simultaneously. peg, an arty looking woman in her late 50's. wild, scraggly gray hair, enters lugging an ice chest and the maitre d'.
knockout. you want to learn something? you want to pack it away? the kid nods.  he picks up the fish.
cradle it. put it in the cooler but not on its side.  in the same position it swims. and check the ice pack. make sure it can drain away. if it can't the chlorine can hurt the flesh. do all that and nobody can put a fish in the fridge better than you. and that's a solid start.  first day and you already did something perfect.
oh, sorry. i forgot. he whispers in john's ear.
damn.  "ohhhh damn."
victor spotted a food critic.
i don't need a walk.
what do you think i'm worried about.  how i'll cook? that's not the problem.  the lady wants fish. get the fish. he starts to prepare for cooking.
i worked in a kitchen once in new york that got four stars. it was like a line formed for the chance to become an asshole. people's accents changed. the heart went out of the place. you understand.
i don't know what to root for.  the thought of one star makes me nauseous. but with four there's no place to go but, "oh my god, they took away a star." three. three and a half. that's what you want. no. wrong! three and a half you feel disappointed that you just missed out on four. you know what you want? three and a quarter.  that would be perfect!! it would mean you're good. but you're not good enough to feel disappointed that you just missed out on excellent. but nothing truly bad happened, you still got your three and a quarter stars. which encourages you to try and improve. and you still get enough respect so that you can get good people to work with you. business is good but not crazy. you're right there underneath the radar where you get to mind your own business. that's a solid life. he tastes a sliver of the food dish he is preparing.
aw, man. this is amazing. no three and a quarter here.
this is going to work.
free your mind. the president whose policies many consider responsible for the great depression.
name a vacuum cleaner.
and this vacuum whooshed all this money out of everyone's pockets.
and hoover was followed in office by.
the guy we are looking for is not a ruse.
phony. so this president was not a ruse. he was the real thing.
ruse??
i'll drive you to the bus stop. and that fast they are gone.
sorry. i'm cracking. as he moves back to his side of the vehicle.
shiiiiiiit! flor hears this from inside and nods in agreement.
i am running out of excuses for the lady of the house. flor doesn't understand his words. yet fully agrees. but then john takes rein of his emotions.
but you know, you gotta watch out for the times you think you're absolutely right. but, man, bernice has finals tomorrow. she didn't need this one. and just that look on her face when she got the gifts-- --like for a second she thought all her problems with her mother had been solved.  flor is flabbergasted. she peeks to see if he is actually crying. at first her heart is touched by john but then there is distinct disapproval that the macho meter can read that low. he looks at her and she faces front quickly.
what are you doing? let me take you all the way. reluctantly she re-enters the car. it rolls another ten feet to her bus stop and she gets out again.
how weird was this ride? sorry.
right. you're clear on that.
she was huge.
i am okay. deborah around?
hey, honey.
no. nothing. just that.  georgie enters the scene.
yeah.
no. it's okay.
let me just do georgie.  here. he hands her the newspaper.
i don't know. this is the one you started with. you really want to give up your first card? note: this is an involved discussion on both their parts. nothing in john thinks it is trivial.
this is your favorite.
but it's not numbers. it's.  they are interrupted by a never quite heard before sound of exultation.
for god's sake. why did you.
i'm getting there. just the stunned thing has to get dealt with.
wait a minute, your sister's talking. evelyn indicates to flor that the good news is about john. and so she studies him a bit.
look how great you read it.
what are you talking about?
what is this?
hey, deb?
you know, i guess i got used to you getting a little blue after intercourse. but during??
you've gotta stop walking away.
see ya. she exits to the bathroom.
not so far. how you doing? the light has changed - cars are beeping. she is about to let him go off but realizes he will wait for her answer.
no, no, no, no, no. i want to keep some walk-in business. i want this to stay neighborhood.
we'll serve a full menu at the bar then.
do this for me.
do this for me or i'll set my hair on fire and start punching myself in the face.
yeah. you're right. that was an unusual way for me to make myself understood. but you'll do the bar thing?
ah, man. okay. they walk into the cooling room.
what's up? what's wrong?
what's your reaction?
yeah.
so you're considering taking it?.  okay, here's the thing. i can't lose you and still keep the hours i'm keeping. i can't do my life unless i can hold onto you. i think i just gave you an incredible bargaining position.
yeah. if i didn't do it - i'd have been coming home just to sleep.
"you're ma man!"
my dream response from you, yes.
well, i think you got your timing.
you want to go swimming?
what do you think, wet suits?
yeah, you're right. let me get mine.  georgie laughs.
hi. i'm john. it's good to see you. great.
have you ever been to the beach here?
here's the most important place in the house. grab this stuff whenever you want.
hey, flor.  she turns.
i'm sorry. very sorry.  he indicates his watch -- then holds his fingers together.
they should be back soon.  flor starts to cry. she sits in a chair. he sits not far from her.
hey, flor.  embarrassed, she says, in spanish, to please leave her alone. she turns from him. he walks to the wet bar and gets a bottle of water. pours some. her crying soft in the
deborah made a mistake. i understand how you feel. do you understand me at all, generally? is simptico the word? he pats her on the back. she looks at him.
un momento, huh? she stops and turns to him.
i'm really sorry this is happening. i just want you to know that. i am real sorry. he taps his heart as an indication of sincerity -- then a flash of worry that he has inadvertently come on to her.
i didn't mean.  he makes a gesture of ardent love.
i meant.  makes a person to person innocent gesture. she finds herself smiling.
well, the good thing about being an idiot is that every once in a while you cheer people up. got to get to work.
she didn't even want us to know she had a daughter - then, on the first day, you take the kid without asking. i think that's.
dumb. she looks at him. he has been atypical. her immediate emotional cocktail is panic, fury and deep, deep hurt. her words are slow. her voice ragged.
so here's the idea. i want to make a serving platter for serving fish using sea glass like this.  he holds out some sea glass.
i used to hunt for this stuff every free minute when i apprenticed in italy. this is bits of broken glass that the ocean sand blasts over the years. great looking, huh? so you guys go hunting and i'll pay 50 cents for any piece, a dollar for anything as big as this and five dollars for any color that isn't brown, clear or green.
come on, cristina - go get em. her eyes widen and off she runs, intoxicated with being included and having the chance to make money.
hi. what's doing? she overturns a large bucket and a small mountain of sea glass spills on the table.
i'm broke.
no. i'm kidding. instead of a platter -- i'll just build a sea glass building and serve fish inside.  great, cristina. why don't you count it and.
so what's the damage. total? her eyes locked on his.
well, this one is borderline.
oh my god, you found a blue. nobody finds a blue. you know how a blue happens? i mean, before the ocean blasts it for 30-40 years. somebody had to throw away an old milk of magnesia bottle. you know what milk of magnesia is?
so how much for the whole deal?
okay. we'll finish dealing with it when i get home from work. she gasps.
you mean your mother.  cristina nods. not comfortable breaking the rule of only speaking for her mother. she faces him, her back to flor.
sure you can talk to me.  cristina begins translating as her mother speaks in spanish.
what's wrong? flor waves the money. cristina waves an empty hand as she speaks for her mother.
i made this little deal. with all the kids to.
sea glass? on hearing the translation of "sea glass" an exasperated flor turns so that her back is to john as cristina admonishes him.
oh, no. engreìdo's going to be rough.
i had no idea it would amount to that kind of money. i thought --- sort of tops fifty dollars.
okay. right. he has no idea where to take it from here -- the two females look as he searches for the right thing to say.
ah, shit.  that fast cristina translates.  before flor can react. john talks directly to flor. quiet,compassionate, a bit beaten.
i'm sorry. i get why you are upset. it might not look it but i am good at getting things. doing something about it is something else. i was going to talk to you before i actually gave her the money. but maybe i should have checked before i started the whole thing. i know what it's like when you feel your kid is being messed with. i get the message. it won't happen again. it's late. i'm sure we'd all like.  flor lets it out. her daughter hard pressed to keep up.
what about hypocritical? cristina turns back. confused. her mother asks her for a translation and she complies.  flor then wearing the same confused expression.
yeah, you heard me. it's not like you didn't do the same thing.
oh, yes. so go lecture yourself. you won't need a translator for that one. i mean what am i lately.  a recycling bin?. just anyone dump in your garbage and hope i make something useful out of it.  flor is confused and getting pissed but he is moving now and pointing a finger at her.
yes, you did the same thing. you think i didn't know about altering those outfits for bernie. she tells me her stuff. so, am i missing something? is there a real difference between that and what you are complaining about? cristina waits for a comeback from her mother to translate. but doesn't get one. instead her mother is a bit mortified and considerably humbled. the pie smack into the face.
okay. i'm still not sure i did the right thing keeping it to myself. it felt disloyal to deborah. but my daughter really needed someone to be kind to her right then. so. so.
i'll tell you, it's pretty wild to say something and have the other person just concede the point. i'm dazed here.
no. no. come on, man.
you can't quit even if you want to and you know why.
yes, you do.  flor is worried as john looks right at her. is he coming on?
because then cristina will blame herself for costing you the job. and that guilt. i don't know if you know about guilt.  cristina doesn't have to check with her mother on this one.
so, welcome back. she smiles. gets up. extends her hand. they shake.
you have a wonderful mother.
hey, boy, i can use some up company. but chum feverishly digs his snout against a nearby piece of furniture and retrieves a tennis ball and rockets away. john follows, weaving a bit.
you gotta do something about chum. your arm's going to go. she waves it off and hurries to get her tape and get out of his way. chum complicates the task, proffering the ball. flor wearily throws it.
don't you sleep anymore?
you're doing fantastic.
she say where?
listen. i just forgot she was going out. don't be a smart ass. uh-oh. well, you and i communicate mostly in apologies anyway. i'm sorry. i should be whipped. i should be stoned- it's been a while - i meant to say, i think, don't be smart, don't be kind, don't be sensitive, don't be beautiful. i meant to say, "hi, flor, good night flor. that show you're watching is going to be a hit." he staggers out. flor watches his lonely back for a beat and then urgently gestures chum to join him. chum is reluctant, but relenting, runs and accompanies his appreciative master. flor, now alone, finds herself staring at a framed picture of john in the den. he is younger and smiling. she studies the picture and then blinks when she realizes her own emotion and purposefully goes back to her lessons.
me? deborah will be home soon. i just talked to her.
sure.
sure.  you have me a little worried.  he glances back, hoping to have his fears assuaged, they are not.
oh, it's happened. is it driving you nuts?
yeah.
tops. it's tops.
no. i hate the damn school. but that's because they keep sending my daughter home anxiety-ridden, mostly over geometry. i mean you "get" bernice. in a decent world her school should let her know how great she is, right?
so, don't ask me. i'm worried about my own kid there.
um. yeah. thanks.  it's great to hear someone else say that out loud. hard to explain.
ah, man.
no, i was thinking about you.
it's just tough to be sane.
i don't know. you introduce two jews in the desert and wait five thousand years. then, bingo, somebody else who can see trouble coming but can't do anything about it.
that's okay.
nothing. i don't know what i'm talking about.  a sustained gust of wind which celebrates her shape in a way which cannot be ignored.
will you sit down.  get out of the damn wind. she sits. it helps.
so you going to send her?
that is exactly the way i felt about bernice going there. exactly.
this was a crummy summer. flor nods ruefully. then suddenly off a glance at him.
good night. hey? she turns.
you speaking english. it's, uh.
nothing. just.  nice meeting you. she gulps and exits. as the camera pulls back. ending the summer at the rented house. as we transition to.
you feel okay?
good deal.
what the hell's wrong?
deb. deb?. where are you? he is about to leave the room. she is about to let him but an instinct leads her astray once more.
baby, what?
is it absolutely necessary to make it this. this scary. can you just say it?
yeah. come on. it's me. we can talk.
go -- hold on. hold on. i'm missing what you're saying. you can't just keep talking and expect me to follow it when you start the way you did.
well there was the crack in the planet. that was noisy.  she looks at him. a solid beat.
there's an actual noise in my head. no kidding.  briefly he does the noise.
you.  she takes that as a cue to start.
if you talk that fast. i'll never hear you. there's a lot going through my mind. have you said yet whether you slept with him?
have you said yet whether you've had sex with someone else? because i really am missing most of your words. so help me out here.
you still haven't said, right?
this is my way of. this is my way of asking you whether.  he stops.  staggering on the threshold of a diminished future.
oh man, once i ask it. give me a second. i'm just trying to figure out whether there's any way to avoid knowing. no, damn there's not.  okay, you're on. real short answer, huh? have you had sex with another.
ahhhh. i'm getting there, yes.
you don't believe that i miss your words. i get three or four tops. and then just see your mouth moving with nothing coming out and then i spin out and there's this noise. but there's no way to miss a "yes" or "no."
really?
what other questions could there be?
well, you don't set the bar real high. he get up and starts to exit.
what?
i've got to get out of here. because you keep talking. stay put! she does. just before he exits.
you are a terrible wife. he exits.
where you going?
me too. i'll drive you.
yes. come on. it's past midnight here.
look i have to get out of here right now.
i'm taking you.
because if i don't -- i'll worry about you and i can't handle that right now, okay? flor emits a crooning sound.
yes! exactly! well put! teach me that word sometime. i can really use it. she nods. there is almost a moment of relaxation. then the anger fires an immediate need. she leans across the seat to deliver an urgent message to him. the words come out exponentially too forcefully.
i quit this job!!!!! as he turns onto sunset.
i'll take you home.
oh, shut up and stop telling me what to do.
okay. we'll do something.
oh, don't do the class thing, man. you don't know where i come from.
what are you talking about? i take responsibility for anything within a block. you have nothing to worry about. that's my job.
yes. okay. big man figure out!
well, you look familiar.
i don't think i can handle public.
i know.
my place!
i'm going to cook, beautiful. i'm going to cook beautifully.
ummmmmmmmm. yes. he stands next to her and, for want of a better physical expression, pats her on her back. she eyes him, almost critical about the lame extent of his aggression. he can't quite look at her. he pats her again.
i think i'm inventing a horrible new way of making out.
my hand is the only sane part of my body. every other part wants to jump off a cliff.
i don't know how to handle that one. i think i already broke my record for smooth.
it's me. i'm not making sense. but i can get you fed. he goes to the kitchen. she begins to explore a little. she goes to a cabinet and opens it to find a cd player. she digs in her purse and takes out a cd.
nothing to be nervous about. you are not on a date.  hey, flor?
what are you doing? she enters the room. dancing a bit.
you want a drink? she considers the question totally. he is busy cooking. not realizing how weighty she considers his question. finally aware she has not answered and looks at her.
huh? she regards him levelly. then makes her decision.
then excuse me, because if i had the equipment i'd inject the vodka. he starts to pour.
keep things real, right?
tell you the truth. i wanted a shot at cooking for you. i'm very glad you liked it.
well, if it's anything at your end imagine over here. scratch that. the last thing you want to hear is somebody going off on your looks.
okay, flor, yes i will. they should name a gender after you. looking at you doesn't do it. staring is the only thing that makes sense. and trying not to blink so you don't miss anything. she squeals with laughter. he laughs a little himself and in so doing loses his courage. he looks down at his hands. shyness again belting him a good one. still looking down.
look. forgive me. i'm. it's just that you are drop-dead, crazy- gorgeous. so much so that i am really considering looking at you again before we finish up here.
no contest. they kiss.
what do you mean?
you kiss like a spanish fly.  joking around. i don't know what i'm talking about.
i'm sorry. i don't know what i just took out of you but tell me how to get it back in there. i'm sorry. flor. i'm sorry.
here's something i never asked anyone. did nightingales undress on your tongue? flor looks at him with enormous warmth. her arms looped around his neck. aware of the music.
yeah.
culpa. flor's pleasure zone is rocked. she smiles at his first spanish word. she is wrestling with large feelings of pleasure and large ominous thoughts.
i would say my mind has evaporated. but that there are remnants still standing waiting to fall. it feels pretty good.
like happy.
it's already gone.
i don't understand what i mean.
you're a great and wild mother.
exactly!.
hey, hey. how do you get there? wait.
i'm being honest. look at us - i think i call it honesty.
no. i'm not. no. stay put for a second. stay here. once our feet touch that floor, i'm going to get too many brain cells back. so don't be in such a hurry. that floor, flor, is going to eat us alive. so you think it was a mistake up to now. that's rough. she nods again. trying to gut things out. but as her foot touches the floor, she must say one last thing to him.
it's late, deborah. the wrong words start to form. she stops herself.
i can't sleep upstairs with you.  just can't for now. this rocks her. panicked she grabs at her life preserver.
yeah. okay. she nods. then goes back up the stairs.
deb, i'm done tonight. i don't think we can jam anything else in.
what's up, honey?
because?
i just hate that you had that kind of a night.
like?
you're fantastic, bernie. i love you.
right. i don't know what to say.
you're welcome. they kiss.
i was hanging out here waiting. can't give you guys a lift? flor shakes her head "no." she looks away for a beat so the next thing she does is a considered action. she leans forward and kisses him on the lips. john looks at her.
this is killer. incredibly hard.
let her have it. party favors.