Cake

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1

- Hey.

- Hi.

- Hanging in there.

- So glad you're here.

- It does.

- Oh. It was rough.

- That's the problem with chronic pain.

- It does, and then you're...

Okay, I think we need some closure...

with what happened to Nina last month...

because we all cared so much for her.

It's going to be hard,

but I am going to sit here

and pretend to be Nina.

And as you feel led,

I want you to verbalize to me...

to Nina...

how her suicide affected you.

- Okay?

- Okay. Yeah.

Okay.

Yes.

I just wanna say...

to you, Nina,

that I don't understand

how you could give up.

I'm sorry, Gail.

Can you forgive me?

What about your son?

He doesn't have a mother anymore.

Why the hell didn't you

reach out for help?

You could have called any one of us.

We'd have been there.

Will you forgive me?

What about you, Claire?

What about me?

Would you like to say something to Nina?

No.

You know,

it might make you feel better...

to get in touch with your feelings.

Well, then in that case,

yeah, I do have a question.

Go ahead.

She jumped off a freeway overpass.

Right?

Specifically,

where the 110 meets the 105?

Yes, but...

And is it true that she landed

on a flatbed truck...

that was full of used furniture

that was heading to Mexico?

Claire, we should be

focusing on our feelings.

And that no one discovered the body

until it reached Acapulco?

That was, like,

more than 2,000 miles away?

And that they then sent her body

back in a Rubbermaid cooler...

which then got stuck in Customs

for, like, a week...

before Nina's husband

could even claim it?

Way to go, Nina.

Personally, I hate it when suicides

make it easy on the survivors.

But please, continue.

Okay.

Here you go. Thanks.

- Keep all that.

- Oh, thanks.

What are you still doing here?

I make a dinner.

I don't want to eat. I'm not hungry.

You must to eat. Doctor says.

Quesadilla?

- What the hell. Sure, sure, sure, sure.

- Yeah.

Hi, Claire. It's Annette.

Listen, we all stayed late

after you left.

Anyway, not to minimize

your feelings in any way at all,

but we all agreed it might be best

if you found another group.

Maybe one to help you deal

with your anger issues?

We think you are

better served elsewhere.

That's all.

Good luck.

Hey, it's me.

Listen, you think I could come by

and pick up the rest of my stuff?

Maybe when you aren't there?

I think it's... prudent

if we don't see each other.

- Not yet.

- "Prudent."

Wonder where he learned that word.

- Ready?

- Oh, yeah.

I'm gonna eat this in a few minutes.

Okay? I just want some quiet time.

- Promise?

- Promise.

- On my mother's grave.

- But your mother lives.

- Here. I want you to take this for overtime.

- No, no, no.

- Silvana, come on.

- This isn't my way.

Go be with your family.

Okay. Thank you very much.

Don't forget...

Please do not set the alarm.

Oh, yeah, I know. I'm sorry.

It's okay. It's just... It's so loud.

Yes. Sleep well, I hope.

Night.

Sh*t.

F*** me.

Oh, God.

Nice night, huh?

Good morning.

Good morning. Good morning.

Mrs. Bennett.

What time is it?

Oh, you're so cold.

Am I?

Yeah, you poor thing. Come.

Come, come.

Okay.

- Sorry.

- Mm-hmm.

Come. There.

No. That doesn't work.

- Yes. You have to do it.

- Mm-mmm.

- My sister has a big scar and it's gone.

- It wouldn't matter.

- You have to prove it.

- Mm-mmm.

Is good for you.

Okay, when I'm dressed,

I want to go to the clinic.

- What?

- Nothing.

Never take Crescent Heights.

How can you know?

- Because I can feel it.

- Oh.

Crescent Heights is like

being thrown in a burlap sack,

getting carted across the tundra

by a horse.

I don't understand.

Just...

Just make a left at the light

and take Fairfax, please.

- Okay.

- I'm sorry. Thank you.

Number 47.

Number 47.

- It's you.

- Oh.

Next time just say my name.

Trust me. No one gives a sh*t.

How's it going?

I'm doing really well.

That support group

has made all the difference.

Good. I thought it would.

Just other women.

Super supportive. Nonthreatening.

- Mmm, exactly.

- Great.

Gosh.

I can't seem to find the authorization

from your primary.

I... Dr. Shipman's office

said they sent it over.

I'm sure they did.

I'd lose my head

if it wasn't attached to my body.

Yeah. I know. I'm the same way.

I mean, I write reminders

about my reminders.

- Right.

- Hey, how is your daughter doing?

She's almost a senior.

It's hard to believe.

Thanks for asking.

Is she still interested in UCLA?

Who knows if alumni recommendations

mean anything anymore,

but let me know when she applies...

I'll be happy to write one.

We will definitely take you up on that.

You're too sweet.

I don't want to waste your time.

I'm gonna go ahead and give you a few

Percocets and OxyContin to tide you over.

- Just don't tell anyone.

- I'll call the office and have them re-fax it.

- Great.

- Okay.

- Thank you.

- No, thank you.

- Keep up the good work.

- Yeah. I will.

You're doing really great.

No, no.

Put that... You can go home, Silvana.

- Is early.

- Not really.

It's not actually.

Well, maybe I wash patio, or...

Silvana, go home. Please.

- Really?

- Yeah.

Well... okay.

Don't do that.

Eres muy bonita.

Comprende?

Pretty.

Oh, you're full of sh*t.

Take your pants off.

No, no.

No.

Here.

I found those in the garage.

It's for your kids.

Thank you.

- So, your kids grew up?

- Good night.

You're late.

What's in the box?

For Felipe?

Did that b*tch make you do that?

Silvana, drive me to the drug dealer.

She doesn't pay you enough

to put up with her sh*t, Ma.

If I were you, I would just quit.

Can I make you something to eat?

Well, it's true.

Arturo, go away.

I said, go away!

What the f*** do you want?

I could use something to drink.

Oh, God. Go away.

Go away.

Why are you such a c*nt?

I hate to break it to you,

but I don't believe in ghosts.

That doesn't mean you're not a coward.

I know.

What's stopping you?

You don't believe in God...

or heaven...

or hell.

You don't believe in anything.

I know.

Do it right now.

- What?

- Just do it.

- Stop. Get away from me.

- Just do it.

- Don't be such a coward!

- Stop it! No!

Goddamn it, it hurts!

- I understand.

- You obviously don't!

Come on. Spread your legs a bit wider.

- Spread your pelvis.

- Sh*t.

- Did you feel your hip sockets loosen?

- I can't...

- You can.

- Jesus f***ing Christ!

- What are you looking at?

- Hey.

- Sh*t.

- You have to focus.

- I am focused.

- No. No, you're not.

It f***ing hurts.

Yeah, you had pins in your legs

for over a year.

It's gonna hurt.

Your doctor wants me

to write an assessment.

On what, my fancy ballet moves?

No, on why there's been

zero improvement in six months.

I have shown up

to every f***ing appointment.

Well, then maybe you would do

better with... someone else.

Okay, great.

Where now?

South on the 110.

- Tell me when you get nearer to the 105.

- Okay.

So I was on break,

and I was looking like this.

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