ACT ONE

SCENE 1

(ALAN and SARAH in a restaurant. Fine food on cafeteria trays.)

So what did you get?

The, um, Sauté de Lapin au Vin Blanc.

Isn't that rabbit?

Uh-huh.

I don't believe it.

What?

What kind of place serves rabbit?

Lots of places. Don't tell me you've never heard of--

Of course I've heard of it, but...

Maybe they don't serve it at, I don't know, Denny's, but--

F.Y.I., Sarah, I do not eat at Denny's.

I never said you did.

I wouldn't be caught dead in Denny's.

All right already.

I wouldn't even go in a Denny's parking lot to turn around.

I wasn't talking about where you eat.

Then why bring up Denny's?

It was just an example. Nothing to do with you. Why are you so touchy today?

(ALAN shrugs.)

Is it Dad?

I don't know.

Alan--

I don't know, okay?

So, how are things going with Jack?

You know what he told me today? He's asking for custody of Danielle. He says because he only works thirty hours a week at that rinky-dink nonprofit job he'll be able to spend more quality time with her.

What an asshole.

That man is living proof that anyone who can say the words "quality time" with a straight face isn't human. He's the one who had the affair, and now he wants my daughter plus twenty grand a year in child support? Now I know how Mom and Dad lasted so long. The only thing that's a bigger pain in the ass than staying married is getting a divorce.

God, let's change the subject. How's the newspaper?

You know, same old same old. I had to do that damn advice column again. It's supposed to rotate among all the writers in the Living section, but I keep getting stuck with it.

You should say something. You don't want to do that column for the rest of your life.

They'll probably pull the plug on it anyway. We hardly get any letters.

Really?

Whose stupid idea was it to do an advice column for teenagers? Teenagers don't ask for advice. They think they know everything already.

My spoon's all spotty.

Use mine. I don't need it.

Why'd you take it?

I wasn't thinking.

(ALAN takes SARAH's spoon, examines it, and then wipes it on his shirt tail.)

Do you know how much this salad was? Eight dollars.

Don't you like it?

It's a decent salad, sure, but that's not the point. You pay eight bucks a plate, and you have to carry it to your table yourself.

It is a cafeteria-style restaurant.

Why should I have to cart an eight-buck salad around myself? The silverware should be clean. And did you see that basket by the register? They expect you to tip them. I mean, what the fuck do they even do here?

They make the food.

The cook makes the food. You don't tip the cook.

They work the register.

You give them money, they punch a few buttons, they give you change. Big whoop. A machine even does the math for them.

Well, I'm sure they only make minimum wage.

Then where does my eight dollars go?

I don't know, Alan, but these people count on their tips, and their employer knows this, and that's why they don't even make enough in a day to buy a decent meal at the place where they work. You've waited tables. You know the routine.

Yeah, but I worked my ass off. What's she doing? Looking at a magazine. I'm supposed to give her fifteen percent for reading Cosmo all day?

(Pause)

When are you going to see Dad?

I don't know.

You are going to see him, right?

(ALAN shrugs.)

Alan, he's in the hospital.

I know. Mom left a message. It's not like it's anything serious.

He wouldn't be in the hospital if it weren't serious.

Mom said he had some kind of "episode," so he's under observation for a couple days. It didn't sound like a big deal.

Episode. Attack is more like it.

Well, Mom told me it was an episode. A little one.

You know what she's like. A tornado could be blowing the house apart and she'd just say the breeze was just picking up a bit.

She said I shouldn't worry. Over and over, "Alan, I don't want you to worry."

If she says that more than once, you'd better be worried. You know that.

I can't go second-guessing everything she says. I'd go crazy.

On top of everything else, this water's warm.

Alan--

Two bucks a bottle and they can't even chill it?

Don't you even want to know what happened?

I already know. He had some kind of episode--or attack, or whatever--and he'll be in the hospital for a couple of days.

Aren't you even curious what kind of attack?

I suppose, but...

But what? But if you knew, you'd feel obligated to actually go and see him?

Fine. Tell me what happened.

He went fishing the other day, down by the causeway. When he was walking back, he... Nobody's sure exactly what happened. Nobody saw it, and Dad doesn't remember. He just collapsed or passed out two blocks from the house. Somebody happened to look out their window and saw him lying face down on the sidewalk, his fishing pole in one hand and a string of fish in the other. God knows how long he'd been there. We're not positive yet, but we think it was probably his heart.

Jesus. How is he doing now?

He's stable, thank God. They moved him out of intensive care this morning. Now they're deciding what to do next.

He's all right, then?

Given the circumstances, I guess he's doing okay. So will you go?

Vin and I were going away this weekend. We're leaving tonight.

Is that Mom?

What do you know.

What's she doing here?

You got me.

You planned this. You ambushed me.

Shush.

(ROSE enters.)

Hi, Mom.

Hi, dear. This is a nice surprise. Hello, Alan.

Mom, what are you doing here?

I was just walking down Nicollet Mall when I looked in the window and saw you.

We aren't anywhere near the window.

How long has it been since I've seen you, Alan?

You called the other day.

You weren't in

You left a message.

(to SARAH)

Where are you going?

Feed the meter.

(SARAH exits.)

Mom, you never come downtown.

I did today.

You hate the city.

This is a nice restaurant.

It's okay.

Do you come here often?

Mom, I know you planned this. You and Sarah.

Sarah might have mentioned that you two were having lunch.

What do you want?

Oh, I'm not hungry.

I mean what do you want from me?

I don't want anything. I saw you in here and I just wanted to say hello.

(Beat)

Hello.

It's funny I saw you in here, since I was just thinking of you.

Is that right.

Your father's been thinking of you, too.

Mom, I can't. Vin and I are going to Hayward this weekend. We have to leave right after work so we can check into the bed and breakfast by nine.

I'm sure you could reschedule.

We planned to go this weekend so we could see the leaves changing. Besides, our schedules don't line up like this again until Thanksgiving.

Gwynnyth is flying in. All the way from Tibet.

Well, that's Gwynnyth. Dad loves Gwynnyth.

Alan, I know you and your father have had your differences, but--

Hamilton and Burr had "differences." Ann Landers and Abigail van Buren had "differences." Me and Dad...

Didn't Ann and Abby eventually make up?

That's not the point.

I know the two of you don't always see eye to eye, but one of you has to swallow his pride and--

Why does it have to be me? It's not my fault.

Alan, if you look back, you'll see both of you share some of the blame.

His irrational hatred is the moral equivalent of my sexual orientation?

I don't mean your... not liking women.

I'm gay. I'm not a misogynist.

Some of the things you said to him were so cruel.

Not half as cruel as what he said. Anyway, he was cruel first.

I can't believe he's in the hospital and you don't even care.

Who says I don't care?

You won't go and see him.

As if he'd want to see me.

Don't be ridiculous. Of course he would.

Why?

He wants the whole family to be together again.

No, Mom. That's what you want.

Yes, but your father wants it, too. Don't you?

(Beat)

Well, it ain't gonna happen 'til he says he's sorry.

(Beat)

So, how's Victor?

Victor?

Yes, Victor.

Victor who?

Victor.

I don't know any Victors.

Your, you know, your friend.

(Beat)

His name's Vincent.

Something with a V.

Vin's fine.

Well, I suppose I should let you finish your lunch. It's a shame I'll have to tell your father you don't want to hear his apology.

What apology?

That's why he wants to see you. I just told you.

You said he wanted the whole family together.

Yes, so he can tell you he's sorry.

He doesn't need the whole family there to tell me that.

It doesn't really matter anyway since you're going to Wisconsin.

Mom, it's perfectly obvious what you're trying to do. He never told you he wants to apologize to me.

Maybe he never came out and said so, but after thirty-five years I think I can tell what he wants. I'll see you Monday, after the surgery?

Mom, wait.

You must have to get back to work. Have a wonderful time in Wisconsin.

(ROSE exits. ALAN fumes. SARAH returns.)

She's gone?

Yes, Sarah. Mom's gone. Is the meter well fed?

Yup.

It's ironic you had to feed the meter, seeing as how you parked in the lot.

I don't think that's the correct usage of the word "ironic."

Two peas in a pod, you two. Two shells in a shotgun.

Does Dad really want to apologize to me?

You'll have to ask him.

He's not here, so I'm asking you.

I wouldn't know. You could ask Mom.

I did ask her.

What did she say?

She said he does, but I don't believe her.

Just because she's using something for leverage doesn't mean it's not true.

Look, I really don't know if I can stop by, but I'll call. Tonight, as soon as we get to Hayward.

You're not going to call.

If you give me the number, I promise I'll call.

(Pause. SARAH writes the number on a napkin and slides it across the table to ALAN.)

Tomorrow I'm going to ask him if you did call.

(ALAN puts the napkin in his pocket. They eat for a moment, without speaking.)

We've established that a lot of restaurants serve rabbit, but what kind of person would actually eat it? How could somebody do that?

Just put it in your mouth and chew.

That could be Bugs Bunny you're eating. Or Roger Rabbit. You could be eating Thumper. Tell me, Sarah. How's Thumper?

(Beat. SARAH eats. ALAN slaps his hand against his thigh, making a thumping noise. SARAH throws down her fork.)

Congratulations. You've made me lose my appetite.

Aren't you going to finish that?

Not now.

That's like twelve bucks, isn't it?

Do you mind if I have it instead?

SCENE 2

(VINCENT in his and ALAN's apartment, preparing for a weekend trip. ALAN enters.)

Did you pack your blue sweater? It's supposed to be nippy this weekend.

Uh, yeah.

Did you hear what I just said?

Sure. Vin, have you seen my keys?

I thought we were taking my car.

Maybe you should go ahead so we can check in by nine. I think I'm going to see my dad.

I thought you were going to call him.

He's in the hospital. I should see him.

I thought it wasn't serious.

Do you think he'd be in the hospital if it weren't serious?

Well, I can't argue with that, can I?

Vin, come on.

No, go. He's in the hospital.

What is with you? At least have a little sympathy.

Like he has for you?

He's my father. He had a heart attack for Christ's sake. Vin...

I don't get it. One minute nothing's wrong, the next it's Terms of Endearment.

I'm not making this up. He's sick. I have to go and see him.

And swing by the Saloon on the way?

What's that supposed to mean?

You know perfectly well. Andrew told me.

Told you what?

Last week, when you told me you had to stay late at the paper for some big "deadline," you were really whooping it up with Sean and the gang.

So I stopped off for a drink on the way home.

Andrew saw you there at ten. You got home at one-thirty.

Your point being?

I want to know why you felt you had to lie to me.

I knew you wouldn't have wanted to come.

You could have at least asked.

You hate Sean.

So what?

I hadn't seen Sean in ages. I wanted to spend time with him without having to worry about you sulking by yourself at the end of the bar.

So basically you wanted to see your annoying friend and you didn't want me there.

Yes.

Then for Christ's sake, just say you're going out to see Sean. Why lie to me?

I knew it would hurt your feelings. I would have spent the rest of the night feeling guilty.

But you didn't feel guilty about lying?

I feel guilty now.

Now that you've been caught? My feelings are hurt anyway, and now I'm wondering how trustworthy you really are.

Christ, Vin. I'm not cheating on you.

I never said you were. Are you?

No.

Are you sure?

Yes.

How many other times have you lied about working late?

Why don't you just rent a fucking polygraph?

How many?

Not many.

"Not many" isn't a number.

Three or four. Sometimes I just need a little space.

I swear, I saw more of you before we moved in together.

We didn't have so many stupid fights then, either.

What are you trying to say?

If you're so nostalgic for the days before we lived together, maybe we should... Never mind.

What? What were you going to say?

Let's not go there. I'm sorry. I'm still adjusting to this whole domestic thing.

It's been almost a year.

I know. I... I need you. I'm not going anywhere.

(They embrace.)

We'd better get going if we don't want to lose the deposit. Are you still going to see your dad?

I don't know. I want to ride up with you. Would we have time to swing by the hospital on the way? I'd make it really fast. I promise.

Take your time.

But the deposit--

Deposit, schmeposit. We've got time.

You know what? Fuck it. I said I'd give him a call on the way up. That's what I'll do.

You sure?

Yeah. Let's go.

[END OF EXCERPT]