Only You Page #19

INT. PENSION ROOM - NIGHT

CLOSE on the receiver, off the hook. Faith is in bed, wide

awake, staring mournfully up at the ceiling.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. PENSION ROOM - THE FOLLOWING MORNING

Kate is on her way out the door. She opens it-- to find Peter

outside in the hallway, carrying a bouquet of flowers the size

of a refrigerator.

PETER:

(moving past her)

I have to talk to her.

KATE:

She's not here.

PETER:

Where is she?

KATE:

She went out to check into

skywriting. I can't believe you

lied. Is this a genetic thing,

men will say anything just to get

laid?

PETER:

No! That's not fair. That's not

it at all. Look, something

somewhere got screwed up. Maybe

some metaphysical wires got

crossed. I may not have the right

name, but I was there. I'm the

guy. I'm-- skywriting??

She eyes him skeptically.

KATE:

You didn't think this would be a

problem?

He starts pacing.

PETER:

It was an emergency. I only lied

that night because it was the only

way I knew to stop her. I knew

if I didn't, I'd never see her

again.

KATE:

Good strategy.

PETER:

Do you know I wasn't even supposed

to be in Rome? My boss was

supposed to come to this

conference, and at the last minute

he got the measles. The measles.

Who gets the measles at

forty-three? So they sent me.

And I wasn't supposed to be in that

piazza that night either. I'd gone

to the movies, only it was sold

out. So I was wandering around.

Just wandering... When I got hit

in the head with this shoe.

He gazes out at the Roman skyline,

PETER:

And then I saw her. And all I know

is, when I looked in her eyes I

saw something... light. And life

and passion and yearning. And

something else I can't even put

my finger on, something I'd never

seen before--

KATE:

Mania.

PETER:

Whatever. And I thought, please

God, give me a sign, give me some

way to keep this woman from getting

into that taxi and disappearing

from my life forever. And He did.

She told me the name. Granted,

it wasn't my name, but it was a

start.

He turns to Kate.

PETER:

And if that's not destiny, I don't

know what is.

KATE:

(touched)

That's really romantic.

She places a consoling hand on his shoulder,

KATE:

Too bad she hates your guts.

Starts leading him toward the door.

PETER:

It's just a name for chrissakes.

The whole thing is so ludicrous.

For all she knows, this guy could

be the biggest loser on the face

of the planet. He could have a

criminal record.

(throwing up his

hands)

He could think Ronald Reagan was

a great president.

Kate shrugs.

PETER:

I mean, realistically, what are

the odds that this is a terrific

guy?

KATE:

(flatly)

Ten billion to one.

Beat.

There's a KNOCK at the door. She opens it. It's Giovanni

-- with a single rose.

GIOVANNI:

Guess who-oooo...

He sees Peter and the other flowers.

GIOVANNI:

Oh.

KATE:

(quickly)

Giovanni, this is Faith's friend,

Peter.

GIOVANNI:

Oh, hello.

(to Kate)

I just came by to see if you wanted

to join me for a drink, but--

KATE:

I'd love to.

She heads for the door.

PETER:

(pleading eyes)

Please. You've got to help me.

She considers him.

KATE:

I'll see what I can do.

INT. COCKPIT OF A TEENY TINY PLANE - DAY

Faith is strapped into the passenger seat of a miniscule

two-seater. White-knuckled. Staring wide-eyed out the window

at a faint trail of vapor.

FAITH:

(over the roar of

the engine)

Are you sure people are gonna be

able to read this?...

The pilot nods. The plane goes into a dive. Faith's eyes

roll back in her head.

EXT. PENSION TERRACE - DAY

Kate and Giovanni are at a table, overlooking the domes of

the city, bathed in the honeyed late afternoon light.

Giovanni's pointing out the sights. A plane buzzes overhead.

Kate looks up. Some faint gibberish is being scattered to

the wind. She shakes her head. Giovanni takes her hand.

KATE:

(a little

nervously)

Don't you have to be getting back

to work?

His eyes sparkle.

GIOVANNI:

It's siesta.

KATE:

Oh.

GIOVANNI:

You see, in America they care for

work, they live to work. But in

Italy, they care for food, for

love, for pleasure...

His lips graze her wrist.

KATE:

How old are you?

GIOVANNI:

What do the years matter? I've

known you for centuries...

INT. PENSION LOBBY - AFTERNOON

Faith enters. Her hair looking like she stuck her finger in

a light socket. She's handed an enormous stack of messages.

Peter, Peter, Peter, etc. There are a lot of cross-outs.

She forces herself to drop them into the trash on her way up

the stairs. Then opens her door and sees the flowers. She

fingers one, momentarily softening, then turns resolute. She

pulls her suitcase from beneath the bed and is unzipping it

when Kate enters, grinning from ear to ear.

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