(CATHERINE
and JOHANNA in CATHERINE’s living room.)
CATHERINE: I don’t
know about you, but I can’t wait to get out of DC.
JOHANNA: Walter’s
already talking about the fishing he’s going to do once we’re home.
CATHERINE: Do you
still have the house in Bristol?
JOHANNA: Well, you
know, we tried hanging onto it at first, because we weren’t sure how long the
exile was going to last, but after two years, it just seemed silly.
CATHERINE: Right.
JOHANNA: Of course,
we’re kicking ourselves now.
CATHERINE: Oh, you
can’t do that. You couldn’t have known.
JOHANNA: We’re
looking to get a little place in Narragansett.
Nothing too fancy. Just a place
to relax for the summer, maybe a rental.
CATHERINE: That
sounds nice.
JOHANNA: And then we’ll
see about buying a house somewhere else for the rest of the year. Maybe Portsmouth or something—we’re not sure.
CATHERINE: Eli wants
to open a bed and breakfast in Newport.
JOHANNA: You’re
kidding.
CATHERINE: I know,
isn’t that nuts? My husband—who can’t
even scramble an egg—wants to open a B&B.
JOHANNA: What gave
him that idea?
CATHERINE: Oh, he’s
gotten so quaint lately. He’s reading
M.C. Beaton mysteries and he watches PBS with me on Sundays. I think it’s male menopause.
JOHANNA: They do have
that, you know.
CATHERINE: As long as
he doesn’t leave me for a Lamborghini and a twenty-four year old, I’m not
complaining.
JOHANNA: Maybe D.C.’s
just worn him out. These past five years
have been—
CATHERINE: In some
ways they’ve flown by, but—
JOHANNA: --I thought
being the wife of a lobbyist would be easier than being the wife of a
politician. Little did I know.
CATHERINE: Both of
us. At least we had each other.
JOHANNA: Oh, I would
have absolutely collapsed after a week here if I hadn’t had you and our little
coffee dates.
CATHERINE: Can you
believe it? After our husbands nearly
destroyed each other in that last Rhode Island election, we wind up being the
best of friends.
JOHANNA: Life has its
twists and turns.
CATHERINE: I think it
was good though, us being exiled. It
showed people we’re no different than anybody else.
JOHANNA: I agree. I totally agree.
CATHERINE: You know,
Eli’s old campaign manager called him to say they did some, you know, curiosity
polling, I guess you would say, just to—out of curiosity, you know—check and
see what Eli’s approval ratings look like after all these years.
JOHANNA: Did they
now?
CATHERINE: Apparently
they’re very high.
JOHANNA: Really?
CATHERINE: Well, I
mean, your approval ratings only go down when you mess up, and since Eli hasn’t
had a chance to mess up—
JOHANNA: Right.
CATHERINE: --Having
been gone for all this time. I guess,
people really miss him.
JOHANNA: You know,
that’s so funny. Because Walter’s old
campaign manager—
CATHERINE: --Trisha—
JOHANNA: Right—she called. And apparently they did something
similar. Just, you know, to see.
CATHERINE: Uh huh.
JOHANNA: And
apparently those numbers were very high as well.
CATHERINE:
Really? How high?
JOHANNA: Oh, I don’t
know. You know I don’t get too involved
in these things.
CATHERINE: Of course.
JOHANNA: But very
high. I know they said they were very,
very high.
CATHERINE: Huh.
JOHANNA: Of course,
it doesn’t mean anything.
CATHERINE: Of course
not.
JOHANNA: It’s not
like Walter’s going to run.
CATHERINE: Eli
either. He’s done with all that.
JOHANNA: We finally
get to leave D.C., and we’re going to—what?
Dive headfirst back into Rhode Island politics?
CATHERINE: Ha. I’d rather be dead.
JOHANNA: Me too. Bring on the gardening.
CATHERINE: Bring on
the Book Club.
JOHANNA: I’m going to
learn German—just ‘cause.
CATHERINE: I may
adopt a troubled child.
(They
laugh and then abruptly stop.)
JOHANNA: He’s
running, isn’t he?
CATHERINE: Yup. Is—
JOHANNA: Yup.
CATHERINE:
Son-of-a-bitch.
JOHANNA: You are so
full of shit. I can’t believe you’ve
been feeding me cookies this entire time just trying to figure out if Eli would
have any competition if he ran.
CATHERINE: Oh, like
that’s not what you were doing?
JOHANNA: I assumed
there was no way Eli would be running again.
Not after he got his ass handed to him the last time.
CATHERINE: Well, I
doubt that would happen this time.
JOHANNA: And makes
you say that?
CATHERINE: Well, Eli
didn’t vote for the Exile. Walter did.
(A
beat.)
JOHANNA: A lot of
people voted for that.
CATHERINE: Are they
all thinking of running for Governor too?
JOHANNA: Eli would
have voted for it if he’d had the chance.
CATHERINE: But he
didn’t. And now that might be enough to
help him win office. Isn’t life funny?
JOHANNA: Catherine, I
don’t want to speak ill of your husband, but a trained seal would have an
easier time getting elected Governor.
CATHERINE: Why do you
say that?
JOHANNA: You said it yourself. Eli can’t even scramble an egg.
CATHERINE: I was
being facetious.
JOHANNA: No, you
weren’t. And I find it hard to believe
those approval ratings were high.
CATHERINE: Oh, but
you think Walt’s were? The man caught
with not-one-but-two prostitutes in the back of a minivan in the parking lot at
his son’s little league game.
JOHANNA: That’s
totally unfair. It was one prostitute. The other one was just a friend she brought
along.
CATHERINE: There’s
this thing called the Internet, Johanna.
People look things up. They
remember things. And they vote
accordingly.
JOHANNA: Really? And do you suppose that picture of Eli buying
cocaine off a fifteen-year-old is still out there somewhere on this magical
Internet you speak of?
CATHERINE: Johanna,
let’s be reasonable. Talk Walter out of
running. The man’s in his late
sixties. He doesn’t have a campaign in
him—let alone a full term in office.
JOHANNA: He’s only
two years older than Eli.
CATHERINE: Eli has
the stamina of a much younger man.
JOHANNA: It must be
all that cocaine.
CATHERINE: Johanna,
if he doesn’t back out, we will bury him.
JOHANNA: We? Are you planning on doing more than standing
next to your husband and smiling blankly while he mispronounces any word with
more than two syllables in it this time around?
CATHERINE: I plan on
being a vital and active member of—
JOHANNA: Oh good,
because I would just love to bust out the those naked photos of you our lead
investigator dug up.
(A
beat.)
CATHERINE: I knew you
had those.
JOHANNA: But I’m
willing to keep them under wraps, if you get Eli to stick to flipping pancakes
in Newport like a good little retiree.
CATHERINE: Let me ask
you something, Johanna, what do you think is worse? A few tastefully done nude photos taken for a
photography class, working as a model so I could put myself through school OR a
photo of somebody ripping the American flag to shreds with their bare hands?
(A
beat.)
JOHANNA: You—
CATHERINE: Couldn’t
even burn it, huh? You had to really let
that flag have it. Bravo, Jo. Who knew those little hands of yours were so
strong?
JOHANNA: I could
wring your neck.
CATHERINE: I’m sure
you could. But I’m not a flag,
Johanna. I’ll fight back.
(A
beat.)
JOHANNA: Let Eli
run. We beat him once, we can do it
again.
CATHERINE: I look
forward to seeing that befuddled look on Walter’s face whenever somebody asks
him how it felt to sign a bill that sent him and his wife away for five years.
JOHANNA: Eli’s going
to have to find a new fifteen-year-old to buy drugs from. I’m sure his older dealer is at a liberal
arts school somewhere in Denver.
CATHERINE: You’re a
bitch.
JOHANNA: You’re a
slut.
CATHERINE: Flag-burner.
JOHANNA: Tastefully
done, my ass. You were sitting on a
mechanical bull.
CATHERINE: Spent a
long time looking, huh Johanna? Is there
something you want to tell me?
JOHANNA: You
miserable—
(A
beat. They look at each other. Then laugh politely.)
JOHANNA: God, it’s
going to be good to get back home.
CATHERINE: Like I
said, I can’t wait to get away from D.C.
All this politics—
JOHANNA: It just
wears a woman out.
(They
toast with their coffee mugs, and smile two very thin smiles.)
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