EMMA: --And the place
is such a mess.
JENNIFER: It’s really
not.
EMMA: I know, that’s
just something you say. The place is a
mess, I look awful, your hair looks great—all that shit.
JENNIFER: Should you
be serving me tea?
EMMA: I don’t have
tea. I have vodka. You want vodka?
JENNIFER: I’d—No.
EMMA: So. You’re here.
What now?
JENNIFER: I wanted to
let you know I’m enlisting.
EMMA: Really?
JENNIFER: Yes.
EMMA: Well, that’s
great. I hope you die.
JENNIFER: You mean
you hope I don’t die?
EMMA: No, I hope you
die. You heard me right the first time.
JENNIFER: That’s not—okay.
EMMA: Why did you
come here, Jen?
JENNIFER: I’m your
last connection to Walter. I thought
maybe you’d want to, you know, speak with him before—Before he and I—
EMMA: Rush off to
battle E.T.? Nah, I’m good. Lock the door on your way out.
JENNIFER: I didn’t
ask for this, you know.
EMMA: When you shack
up with a married man, you ask for all kinds of things, Jennifer. You may not realize it at the time, but that’s
what happens. You shack your way into a
whole shitload of problems.
JENNIFER: He wanted
me to come here today.
EMMA: Did he? Well, isn’t that conscientious of him?
JENNIFER: He feels
guilty.
EMMA: What about you,
Jen? Do you feel guilty?
JENNIFER: I feel…I’m
seeing someone now. Someone new.
EMMA: Oh really? Does he know my ex-husband is living inside
you?
JENNIFER: He knows I
have an illness.
EMMA: Well, that’s
one way of putting it.
JENNIFER: I know you
must feel envious of—
EMMA: Envious? That Walter chose to reside in you upon the
moment of his death instead of me?
Actually, I’m thrilled. Why would
I want a lying, cheating asshole residing in my body? Trust me, I’m good. I’ve taken up golfing. And gambling.
And excessive drinking. You sure
you don’t want that vodka?
JENNIFER: You must
want to speak with him?
EMMA: I have no
urge. None at all. And for your information, the only reason his
energy resides in you is because you were with him when he died. If he had been here, with his wife, I
probably would be stuck with him. So I’m
just lucky I guess.
JENNIFER: I’m still
getting used to his powers.
EMMA: Have you lit
anything on fire yet?
JENNIFER: Just the
curtains in my living room.
EMMA: God, I went
through so many curtains. Eventually I
just switched to blinds.
JENNIFER: He misses
you.
EMMA: Wow, that must
be hard for you to say.
JENNIFER: It is.
EMMA: Wonderful. I don’t miss him. Please let him know. Or does he just hear me? Is that how that works?
JENNIFER: You don’t
have to be cruel, Emma. It’s likely that
once the war starts, he and I will both be dead, so you don’t have to—
EMMA: You never said ‘Sorry.’ Either of you. Not once.
Not once did you even—
JENNIFER: Sorry? You wanted us to say Sorry? As if Sorry was enough?
EMMA: People are always
saying Sorry isn’t enough when really it’s just that they don’t want to say
anything at all.
JENNIFER: I’m
sorry. He’s sorry. We’re both very sorry.
EMMA: I don’t wish
death upon you. I was just being a
bitch.
JENNIFER: Well that’s…good.
EMMA: What’s it
like? Having him in your brain all the
time?
JENNIFER: It’s like a
permanent ice cream headache.
EMMA: That sounds
horrendous.
JENNIFER: (Shrugs.) You can get used to almost anything. That’s what I’ve learned.
EMMA: Do you have any
of his…qualities?
JENNIFER: Well, I
drink beer now. I never used to before.
EMMA: What else?
JENNIFER: I read the newspaper
now. I never read the newspaper before,
and…I’m slightly attracted to women as well.
EMMA: That must be—interesting
for you.
JENNIFER: Actually, I
used to be very attracted to women, now I’m only slightly attracted. Walter isn’t as…liberal as I am.
EMMA: Yeah, he wasn’t
much fun. I have no idea why I fell in
love with him.
JENNIFER: I know why
I did.
EMMA: Oh?
JENNIFER: He looked
lost. When I met him. And I, uh…I don’t know. I felt like I could help find him. Or, help him find himself, I guess.
EMMA: You’re
right. He was always lost. I could never…
(A beat.)
Would you say you were lost too?
JENNIFER: I didn’t
think I was, but…maybe. Maybe we’re all
sort of lost. Maybe other people help us
find ourselves. That’s not a very
progressive way of looking at things, but—
EMMA: Screw being
progressive. At least you’re being
honest.
JENNIFER: Right. Well—if there’s nothing you want to say to
him, then—
EMMA: Tell him he’s a
miserable bastard.
JENNIFER: Emma—
EMMA: And I forgive
him.
(A beat.)
And I forgive you too.
And I forgive myself for falling in love with somebody who couldn’t love
me back. He and I were two blue pieces
from two different puzzles. We only
looked like we would fit together.
Still, I guess you can’t blame us for trying.
JENNIFER: He says ‘Thank
you.’ And, I want to say ‘Thank you’
too.
EMMA: Do you want to
do this—the fighting, I mean. Is that you
or him?
JENNIFER: Believe it
or not, it’s mostly me. Between the two
of us, I think he’s a little scared.
EMMA: So why is he
going along with it?
JENNIFER: Because he
knows it means something to me. To be
able to—contribute.
EMMA: I get that.
(She
stands. JENNIFER does as well.)
Good luck to you, Jen.
To both of you.
JENNIFER: Uh, this is
a little odd, but…Walter would like to hug you.
EMMA: Tell him he can
go—
JENNIFER: Fine. Fine.
I’ll pass that along to him.
(EMMA
extends her hand.)
EMMA: Best I can do.
(JENNIFER
looks at EMMA’s hand, and then shakes it.)
JENNIFER: By the way,
I’m sorry.
EMMA: You said that
already.
JENNIFER: No, I mean,
I’m sorry about the curtains in your bathroom.
EMMA: (Laughs.) Good old, Walter.
(Lights.)
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