The Junk Drawer

                (KATE and DAVID sitting in their house.)

KATE:  We should have fixed the ceiling fan in kitchen.

DAVID:  We would have had to hire somebody to do that.  Ceiling fans are complicated.

KATE:  The fan is fine.  It’s whatever’s connected to the fan that doesn’t work.  The wiring.

DAVID:  The wiring’s always been bad in this house.

KATE:  We should have fixed the wiring.

DAVID:  I don’t…You know, it’s weird.  I don’t mind it.  I really don’t.  All the things wrong with it—the house.  I mean, I did—when I was—you know, you go to turn on the ceiling fan and it doesn’t work, or you go to take a shower and the water pressure is terrible, and you get mad for a little bit, but overall—It really doesn’t bother me.

KATE:  Well, it doesn’t bother you now.

DAVID:  Yeah, that’s what I mean—now.

KATE:  Because who cares, right?

DAVID:  Right—because it’s—you know, it’s just water pressure.  And a ceiling fan.

KATE:  But it’s all these things—I hate that we’re leaving all this stuff undone.

DAVID:  Why?  What else is on your list?

KATE:  The junk drawer.  It’s filled.

DAVID:  Right.

KATE:  With junk.

DAVID:  Right.  Well.

KATE:  But not even useful junk.  Like, real junk.  Like, junk that we should just trash.

DAVID:  So go trash it.

KATE:  Really?

DAVID:  Yeah.  Take the whole drawer and throw it in the trash.

KATE:  We might need it.

DAVID:  Kate—

KATE:  No, but David—

DAVID:  You just said—

KATE:  Yeah, but now I’m thinking about it—there are rubber bands in there.  We might—

DAVID:  What?  Need them?

                (A moment.)

KATE:  Okay.  Yeah.  But—no, okay.  Yeah.

DAVID:  Right?

KATE:  Yeah.  Damn.

DAVID:  Damn?  Why damn?

KATE:  I’ve spent my entire life saving up rubber bands just in case, and now I just realized there’s really nothing a rubber band can do that other stuff can’t do just as well.  Like, you essentially never really NEED a rubber band and nothing else but a rubber band, and yet, I have hundreds of them.  Literally, hundreds.  Oh my God, am I an idiot?

DAVID:  Kate, you’re talking to a guy that has four different kinds of screw guns in the garage.  I have an entire wall full of tools I’ve never even used.  Plus the ones in the shed.

KATE:  You have tools in the shed?

DAVID:  Yeah.

KATE:  I don’t know about any tools in the shed.

DAVID:  That’s because those are the really expensive tools I didn’t want to tell you I bought.

KATE:  David, I wouldn’t even care that you bought tools but I’m constantly asking you to fix things and they never get fixed and now you’re telling me you a shed full of tools meant for fixing things.

DAVID:  I like the tools, I don’t like fixing though.

KATE:  That makes no sense.

DAVID:  Rubber bands.

KATE:  Yes, your honor.  I rescind my argument.

                (A moment.)

DAVID:  You sad we never needed that extra room?

                (KATE shrugs.)

KATE:  Another year, maybe it would have happened.

DAVID:  Could still.  Twenty percent chance the comet goes right on by.

KATE:  Yeah, then we just have to deal with a mild case of infertility.

DAVID:  Kate—

KATE:  David…

DAVID:  --We never really explored all the options.  We just…stopped.

KATE:  We stopped because we were tired.

DAVID:  I wasn’t—

KATE:  I—Me—I was tired.  I needed…a break.

DAVID:  I’m not saying—I didn’t want to, you know, talk about…

KATE:  We can talk about it.  I know you must think—I mean, now that there isn’t any more time, it must be—I’m sure it’s a…regret.

DAVID:  I figured it would be a regret for you.

KATE:  Is a regret and something you wanted that you didn’t get the same thing?

DAVID:  Well…yeah.

KATE:  I don’t know…I wanted a million dollars, I didn’t get it, but I wouldn’t say I…regret not having it.

DAVID:  But a baby?

KATE:  We tried, you know?  I mean, we really tried.

DAVID:  I know.  Why do you think nothing ever got fixed?  Why do you think I never got around to calling a plumber or an electrician?  I used to think—Well, we’ll deal with the baby thing first and then we’ll worry about the other stuff.  Everything became ‘other stuff.’

KATE:  I have a confession.

DAVID:  What?

KATE:  I knew about the tools in the shed.

DAVID:  How?  You never go in there.

KATE:  Oh, you are wrong, my love.  I go in there quite often.  You never noticed the big cardboard box?

DAVID:  Yeah, it says Kate’s mother’s old nightgowns.

KATE:  I only wrote that so you wouldn’t look in there.

DAVID:  Okay, it worked.

KATE:  It has…

DAVID:  What?

KATE:  It has baby clothes in it.

DAVID:  No.

KATE:  Yes.

DAVID:  Kate, we agreed.

KATE:  I know.

DAVID:  We agreed we weren’t going to be those creepy people who can’t conceive and buy baby clothes before they ever—

KATE:  I know, David, I know, but you go in stores, okay?  You go in stores—not looking for baby clothes—but, for other stuff—and there, in the store, in plain view, is—are—

                (She points out as if they’re right in front of her.)

--Baby clothes.

DAVID:  Kate, that box is huge.

KATE:  I know.

DAVID:  I always wondered why your mother had so many nightgowns.

KATE:  My mother slept naked.

DAVID:  EW!

KATE:  I’m kidding.

DAVID:  We should burn this whole house down.  Everything—the shed, the garage, the box—everything.  Just burn it to the ground.

KATE:  And then when the comet misses us, because it will, because when you burn down your house, the comet misses you, the same way when you buy a house with a room for a baby, you go to a doctor and he says—Nope, sorry—that’ll happen.  We’re those people.  We make plans and then the plans don’t happen but the other thing does.  The comet hits.  The box goes in the shed.  The baby never…You know?  So we go with the back-up plan.

DAVID:  Is that what this is?  The back-up plan?

KATE:  Yes.  It’s…Yes.

DAVID:  It’s not a bad plan.

KATE:  You think so?

DAVID:  I think, all things considered, it’s pretty good—for now.  For the time we had, you know?

KATE:  You’re a sweet man.  When I married you, I was a little unsure about whether or not you were going to wind up being an asshole, but you’ve turned out pretty good.  I should pat myself on the back.

DAVID:  You should.

KATE:  I might.

DAVID:  Just do me one favor before we find out how much time we have left.

KATE:  Anything.

DAVID:  The junk drawer.

KATE:  Ohhh…

DAVID:  The rubber bands.  Toss ‘em.

KATE:  Can I keep the six pairs of scissors?

DAVID:  Well, I mean, you always need scissors.

                (He smiles.  She wraps her arms around him.  The junk drawer awaits.)