Pieces of April Page #2

We're gonna have|a very nice time.

- You don't actually believe that.|- It's possible, I think, yes.

- Well, you're a better man than me.|- That's funny. "Better man. "

Don't get me wrong.|I'm glad we're going.

This way, instead of April|showing up with some new piercing

or some ugly new tattoo,|and... God forbid... staying overnight,

this way, we get to show up,

experience the disaster|that is her life, smile through it,

and before you know it,|we're on our way home.

- We don't know it's a disaster.|- I know. Believe me, I know.

- Miss me?|- You bet.

April's doing a lot better.

She's had a couple of real jobs,

she's found a new place,

Eddie the drug dealer is history,

and... she's met this new guy.

Great.

This guy sounds promising.

- Is that so?|- Oh, yeah, he does.

And why is that?|Tell us, please, why?

Apparently, this guy Bobby...

reminds her of me.

Eugene, somebody's at the door.

Who is it?

Hi, I'm in 3C.|I need some help.

Help?

- Hi. I have a problem.|- Who is it?

It's the new girl in 3C.|Says she's got a problem.

- What?|- Problems, Eugene.

The girl's got problems.

She's white, she's got her youth,

her whole privileged life|ahead of her.

I am looking forward to|hearing about her problems.

That's the short version.

- Oh, my.|- Goddamn!

If I told you the long version,|you wouldn't have cried.

And she's how old?

She had me when she was|my age, so she's 42.

- I'm 42.|- You're 45.

I can't imagine.

The truth is, none of us know.

Eugene here could be|chewin' on his supper

and choke to death|on a turkey bone this very day.

We just don't know.

But to realize your time is almost up,

and you have one last chance|to do the things you love,

and be with those you love...

Goddamn!

You poor thing.|Your poor mother.

Yes. No.

You must have|a special relationship.

We do, yes. We're very close.

More like sisters.|She's like, my best...

You don't get along, do you?

No, not at all. Never have.

- Oh, dear.|- Evette.

I know, baby, I know.

Look, sweetie, we have|our own meal to make.

- I understand.|- But, wait, don't move.

Tina's comin' with the boys|about 2:00?

- That's right.|- And Glen will be late, as always.

Do we even know|if Rasheed is coming?

- I know what you're thinkin'.|- 'Course you do.

You always know|what I'm thinkin'.

Here's what.

We'll put off|cooking ours until 10:30.

That'll get you started,

and then you'll have|two hours plus to find another oven.

How's that sound?

- This yours?|- Yo, I got a message for you.

- What?|- Tyrone's lookin' for you.

- I don't know no Tyrone.|- Yeah, well, he knows you.

This is a nice thing|you're doing for her.

- Not really.|- It is. It's a nice gesture.

- Isn't it nice, Eugene?|- I have a question.

"Nice" writes letters,|"nice" goes home to visit.

You mean you haven't been back?

- Hell, no.|- Not since she got sick?

It's... she likes it better that way.

- I don't believe you.|- Believe me.

- I'm the first pancake.|- What do you mean?

She's the one you're|supposed to throw out.

- Now I have a question.|- What?

Did you stuff it?

Has the bird been stuffed?

- Yeah.|- With what?

A... stalk of celery... I don't know.

Celery's good.

- Onion.|- Onion's good.

Mostly it's just|the mix from the box.

You used store-bought stuffing.

Yeah. Is that a bad thing?

No, it'll be fine.

What was I supposed to use?

I'm sure it's a great brand.|A fine brand.

You don't use store-bought stuffing.

Please, Eugene, your first turkey.

Need I remind you|of that half-cooked affair?

The meat all pink,|no flavor whatsoever,

and the next year,|your burnt the poor bird.

You remember that, right?

No, I don't remember.

That's why I'm here, baby,|so you don't forget anything.

Yeah? Thanks a lot.|Pass me them beans.

April, don't worry about it.

Honey, what are you doing?|I don't need a map.

- I want to take an alternate route.|- Dad knows the way.

Back roads, see things|we've never seen.

This way, the day won't be|a complete waste.

- I hope we're not late.|- We don't want to be early.

I'm giving you a choice.

You can either let me|study the map...

or you can rely on|my uncanny sense of direction.

- Which will it be?|- Uncanny sense of direction.

Okay...

Where are we?

Careful now.|Don't let the heat out.

How's it look?

I... wouldn't know.

What's he making?

Tell her what you're making.

Nothing special this year.

No. Just sweet potato soup|with buttered pecans,

herbed oyster stuffing,|giblet gravy,

some lemon-rosemary green beans,

sauted red Swiss chard with garlic,

hickory nut ice cream,

and maple pumpkin pie.

- Wow.|- Nothing special this year.

- Yeah, right.|- How about you?

Turkey, gravy...

a Waldorf salad.

Waldorf salad.|That sounds unusual.

It's made with different kinds|of fruits and nuts.

The dressing's|pretty much mayonnaise.

Then mashed potatoes, of course,

and cranberry sauce,|which is easy.

Just open the can.

Oh, sweetie.

I like it from the can.

Nobody likes it from the can.

It was a squirrel, I think...

or a very small raccoon.

- Jim?|- Yes, Joy?

Hop to.

Mom's lookin' for a spot.

We're sorry we didn't know you.

We hope it was quick, and...

That's fine.|Beth, a song?

No.

I think Tim pretty much said it all.

Then what are we waiting for?

Okay, pour it in, sweetie.

That's it. Look at you.|You're a natural.

Right.

While we're waiting for it|to dissolve, you stir.

Yeah. You go, girl!

Stop it. It's nothing.

Have you ever done it before?

- No.|- Then it's not nothing.

- Excuse me. I just wanna...|- What's next?

Next, we let it simmer|until it becomes a lovely texture.

- Please, could you just...|- Then we let it cool off.

Ladies, please.

Honey, please just|use your words and we'll move.

Don't worry about Eugene.|He always gets a little fussy.

- Any luck finding another place?|- I haven't even started.

- Probably the sooner...|- Evette.

The sooner you find|another oven, the better.

I'm coming, Eugene.

- Don't worry. Done.|- Okay.

Hi. Eugene and Evette in 2B...|do you know them?

They're helping me for the time being,|and I was just wondering if...

See, my family's coming,|and my mom, she's...

It's complicated.

Then the oven or the stove...|I don't know what it's called... started...

Sorry.

The truth is,|she's a rotten mother,

so I don't even know why|you'd want to help me anyway.

It's funny. My mother was|a mean woman, too. Nasty.

There wasn't a nice bone|in her body.

She smoked non-stop,|cheated at cards,

and she complained|every day of her life.

- Sorry.|- You know what?

There's nothing I wouldn't do for|a chance to spend more time with her.

So you'll help me then?

Mi casa. Su casa

Help.

Yo, Latrell, man, this is Bobby.|I'm at the spot.

Call me back.

I'm at 212-737-3858.

All right.

This is great.|You don't know what this means.

- It's such a big help.|- Good.

- By the way, I'm April in 3C.|- Tish in 4A.

Thank you, Tish in 4A.|Thank you, thank you.

My family thanks you.

Okay, last one.

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