Lovers and Other Strangers Page #2

They're not happy together.

I heard, Frank.

Who's happy?

Do you see me running around

dancing in the streets?

Do you see your father running around

dancing in the streets?

What, are you better than me?

You think your mother and I are happy?

- You and Mom aren't happy?

- No.

Then why did you stay together?

- We're content.

- We're content.

These kids today,

all they're looking for is happiness.

Don't look for happiness, Ritchie.

It'll only make you miserable.

If I'm not going to be happy,

I don't want to be married.

Where the hell does he think he's going?

You think you're smart.

I'm telling you you're not smart.

I know you're not smart.

You're stupid.

You think only married people are unhappy?

- What about Eddie Shride?

- Or Tommy Pizzo?

- Or your Aunt Pauline?

- Or Father Burke?

- You want to end up like them?

- Unhappy?

Why do you think

we all keep our families together?

For happiness? No. For the family.

- For the kids.

- We don't have any kids.

I told you not to have any kids.

I told him not to have any kids.

What about your nephew, Mark?

You and Joan are his godparents.

You got a responsibility.

Who'll take care of him

if, God forbid, we all die in a fire?

We could all get killed

crossing the street by a truck.

- Or die of a heart

attack in the living room.

- Or get electrocuted

in the bathtub.

Believe me, dying is no picnic.

If you're not going to talk intelligently,

I'm not going to discuss it with you.

For God's sake, Frank, do something.

Don't tell me you won't discuss it.

I'll take off my strap...

and give you a beating.

I don't care how old you are.

Don't you touch him.

That's all you know, the strap.

Where were you when he was young

and really needed a good beating?

- It's all your fault.

- Don't give me it's my fault.

It's your fault. You spoiled him.

It's all your fault.

I don't blame Ritchie. I don't blame Joan.

I don't even blame you.

You know who I blame?

The Ecumenical council.

Once you start monkeying around

with who's a saint and who isn't...

it makes the young people crazy.

God, why did this have to happen?

Maybe I wasn't a good mother.

Is it my fault? It is my fault,

isn't it, Ritchie?

Stop it. It's nobody's fault.

It's got to be somebody's fault.

I want to know whose fault.

We'll talk to him at the wedding, Frank.

Joan will be there, too.

Would you believe I lived with them

till I got married?

When they get started

they can really put you away.

You and Susan had the right idea.

You lived together.

You got to know each other.

I grew up with Joan,

too scared to do what you did.

It was a different world.

So we got married...

and then we found out it was a mistake.

But it's not going to happen to you.

You got it made.

What makes me so special?

I'm walking down the same aisle you did.

I saw our wedding pictures

at Donaldson's today.

Yeah?

You look the same, Johnny...

- but I've gotten older.

- No, you haven't, honey.

But you have to keep in shape.

Remember, you haven't got four years

in the Marines behind you.

Do you think Susan will be happy

with Mike?

Why not? They've been making it for a year.

Could be just physical.

That's a good place to start.

I'll be right out, Johnny.

He and Dr. Edwardes were on a high,

sloping roof.

And when he saw Edwardes plunge

over the edge to his death...

he also saw the angry proprietor

hiding behind the chimney, laughing.

The symbolism

of the small wheel escapes me.

You are thinking that now, Dr. Murchison.

Honey, wait a minute.

Ingrid Bergman just found out

who the murderer is.

- You've seen Spellbound

four times.

- Six times. It's one of my

all-time favorites.

Convicted as a sane man...

and killed in the electric chair

for your crime.

- I'm going to telephone...

- Boy, Ingrid Bergman.

What about Gregory Peck?

- He hasn't got your looks.

- That's true.

Wait a minute, honey.

You're going to make me miss the ending.

Okay, I'll wait.

Any husband of Constance

is a husband of mine.

- All right. Goodbye. Good luck.

- Goodbye.

Good night, honey.

Come on, Wilma. I'm tired.

Are you going to make love to me or not?

- I owe you one.

- You owe me two.

How do you figure I owe you two?

Last Friday and the Wednesday before,

when your mother stayed over...

and you didn't want to make noise.

Okay, now I owe you three. I'm good for it.

What?

Come on, Wilma.

I'm not in the mood right now.

All right, if you really don't want to.

I don't want you to do anything

you don't want to do.

Don't you ever touch me again.

Will you put the cigarette out

and go to sleep?

- I can't sleep when I'm like this.

- It's all in your mind.

- It is not. I feel sexy.

- It's just nerves. Have a sandwich.

Come on, Wilma. In the morning.

I'm not interested in the morning.

It's not romantic in the morning.

- It's romantic now.

- To me it's work.

Look, it's Thursday already.

We haven't made love in 10 days.

We both work very hard

to make love at least twice a week...

so if we don't tonight...

there's going to be a lot of pressure on us

to catch up.

It wouldn't be that way

if you didn't nag me about it all the time.

Nag? I've tried

every subtle way of reaching you...

except showing stag films.

I get the feeling that you're trying

to make my virility look impotent.

- When did that feeling first hit you?

- The day I married you.

- I was dynamite with other women.

- They were lucky to be there...

with the record holder

in three-second intercourse.

Out of all the women in the world...

I had to go marry

an equal-time-orgasm fanatic.

Read a couple of Ladies' Home Journals

and all you can think is "Me, too. "

And why not "me, too?"

You really want to take over, don't you?

Don't think I haven't

noticed the new wardrobe...

with the pants, the suits, the ties.

You really look butch.

Butch? I'm more feminine

than you'll ever be.

- All I want is a little tenderness.

- Look who wants tenderness.

I'll give you tenderness.

There's your tenderness.

You better decide

whether you want to be a man or a woman...

and then talk tenderness to me, Wilma.

Or is it Willy?

I tell you what.

You decide what you want to be first,

and then I'll be what's left.

You think you're so masculine

because whenever we have a problem...

you roll over, you go to sleep,

or get drunk, or try to act rough with me.

I got a hot flash for you.

Those tough Marine drill sergeants

are the biggest fags in the world!

What did you say?

Don't you talk about

the Marine Corps that way.

Okay. They're the biggest latent fags.

But they're not real men.

A real man is warm and understanding...

and tender, and gentle,

and loving, and sensitive, and-

And what's a woman?

A woman is strong,

and responsible, and brave, and-

And what? And what?

A woman is very...

I don't know what a woman is.

I don't see any difference

between us anymore.

At the wedding,

we'll rent an extra room for the kids.

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