Housesitter Page #5

- Think how that makes me feel.

- Shh. One at a time, please.

- Shut up!

- Wait a minute.

- Here's what the problem is.

When I come home,

you're always organizing.

For starters,

let's begin by both of you

trying once again...

to live under

the same roof.

Agreed?

For you, Gwen,

let's start by trying

to work on this idea...

of self-discipline, sticking

with something once you've begun it.

For instance, this idea

of continuing your education.

- Newton, I must say...

- I cannot afford it.

Even with your big promotion

that the whole town is talking about?

See you at choir practice.

Don't they gather by the river? That's

where they're gonna find your body.

Grow feathers and

sh*t in a tree!

Why did you have to bring up sleeping

with what's-his-face? I was mortified.

We made a deal.

- That doesn't give you the right

to disparage my reputation.

What are you talking about?

You're a con artist.

Don't yell at me!

We're only pretending to be married.

The only person pulling a con

is you with Becky.

In return for which you extorted

free rent in a furnished house...

and now

a college education!

- And dance classes.

- Lest we forget.

- Are you nuts?

- I thought you'd love the idea.

- Of marriage?

- It is not a marriage.

It is an arrangement in which I will share

my house with her in exchange for which...

she will argue with me and

make my life look pitiful.

That's marriage.

- How are you?

- Hey, how's the baby?

Guys!

Hi, guys!

Well, I'll be home around 6:30.

Want me to pick up anything?

Oh no, that sounds good.

No, no, I like that. Okay, great.

Okay, bye, honey.

Gwen!

- May I talk with you?

- Um...

I just had a big fight with Gwen.

I came home from work and she started...

I'm sorry, I shouldn't

even be talking about it.

No, it's just... Uh, come in.

Come in, please.

I don't know how

I ended up here.

I just walked away from the house

not thinking about where I was going.

My thoughts were chaotic.

I saw the light in your window.

- Davis, Gwen is here.

- She is?

- You bet I am.

- What are you doing here?

No, what are you

doing here?

Oh God.

- I am trying so hard to make

this marriage work.

Oh, that is rich!

- Rich?

- Guys, please.

She promised she would

never see him again.

Oh, it's my fault.

Ask Mr. Matrimony when the

last time we slept together was.

- What?

- You wanna tell her the truth?

- Really?

- Once.

Once in I don't want to tell you

how long. You want to tell her why?

Me?

Because our Mr. Davis

lives with a little, dark secret.

Hey, really, I don't

want to get involved.

Oh, but you are involved.

You're the secret.

Oh, he's tried to

overcome it, God love him.

He's tried to forget about you. For a time,

I thought we were really gonna make it.

You felt so close to me then.

We used to wash each other's hair.

Everything was

just so perfect.

And then came Maui.

What happened

in Maui?

Uh, well...

Gwen might as well

tell it.

We went there to

celebrate his promotion.

He was so happy then, almost too happy.

He was working so hard...

to have fun

and please me.

He'd chase me into the surf

and carry me into the cabana.

He'd dance

and we'd drink.

He'd toss nuts in the air

and catch them in his mouth,

breaking his tooth so we had to spend

the last day of our vacation...

Iooking for a dentist

to do an emergency crown.

I'll never forget holding his hand

in that dentist's chair,

waiting for him to wake up

from the gas they'd given him.

He had that cotton

sticking out of his mouth.

When he gazed up at me,

he said:

"Becky.

Oh, Becky."

I came here tonight because

when you walked out that door...

I had to see if this is

where you were gonna go.

Gwen!

- What are we gonna do?

- Oh, Davis.

Hey, hey, hey!

That was great. She's definitely

starting to come around.

- Thank you.

- Just doing my job.

- Did you come up with that

on the spur of the moment?

Yeah.

Wow! You're a genius. You're like

the Ernest Hemingway of bullshit.

Really, you're like

a living work of art.

- Oh, God, I don't...

- What?

Thank you.

This is not something we want

to force on you by any means.

We'd like you to consider

a little reception.

- A what?

- People have been coming up to us...

now that

the word is out,

and asking

what they should do...

in terms of gifts.

- Gifts?

- No, no, no. No gifts.

We're not talking

anything lavish.

Would this be that I could,

like, go register?

Certainly.

We could go together.

- Sweetheart?

- Yes, honeybun?

Don't you think a reception

is a horrible idea?

No.

Our marriage is in

a very ambiguous state.

Which is why your mother and I agree

that it might be what the doctor ordered.

- Give it a fresh start.

- I think you're right.

Another thing, unless

this makes you uncomfortable,

I'd like for you

to call me "Dad."

Newton?

No, it wouldn't make me

feel uncomfortable at all...

Dad.

Shall we?

Let me lay out

our thinking here.

Uncles, aunts, cousins,

Gwen's parents...

and any siblings or other relatives

who'd like to come.

- We'd be delighted to have them.

- This is out of control.

A marriage is bigger

than two people.

We don't have

to invite her family.

Newton, we'd like to meet them.

They're our family too.

Well...

Gwen's parents

are divorced.

What's more,

they hate each other.

If you get the two of them

in the same room, it's bedlam.

Am I right?

Oh, you poor thing.

I'm so sorry.

I don't think a reception

would be wise.

No!

You're angry,

aren't you?

- I am not angry.

- You're acting like you're angry.

I'm fine, okay?

Can we drop it?

- What would you have done?

- Davis, I'm not arguing with you.

They're divorced and they

hate each other's guts, fine!

I've broken this line,

cantilevered the rafters and

run the truss joist this way...

and turned a negative

into a positive.

It is so depressing to work

alongside someone of your caliber.

- When did you come up with this?

- This morning or last night.

You've been here all night?

- Becky thinks

I've already got this promotion.

- You told her that?

- Gwen did.

So, can you

show this to Moseby?

- You better do it.

- Why? He likes you!

If I take that in there and Moseby starts

carrying on about how brilliant it is,

I'm going to take

the credit.

- What?

- Mm-hmm.

You're my friend.

Where're your ethics?

My ethics are that

I know this about myself...

so I'm not going to take

this in and screw you over.

Mr. Sharpstein!

Hi, my name's Davis.

I'm an architect on the third floor.

Do you think Mr. Moseby

might see me?

Let me check.

Mr. Davis from the third

floor to see you.

Okay.

Go right on in.

- Really?

- Mm-hmm.

Thank you.

- Davis! You're in a lot of trouble.

- Mr. Moseby.

I am?

- How the hell come

I never knew you were married?

Hi, honey.

If this little gal

hadn't wandered to the wrong floor...

Davis, when one of our young people gets

married, I want to be the first to know,

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