Roommates Page #8

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if we have to. - Come here.

Come on out here.

You guys know anything

about this? Lisa?

Stay out of the street.

Will you watch them?

Get your things.

- This is so annoying!

- The garage will pick up the car.

And that taxi?

When I spoke to them, they said

they would be here in five minutes.

Rocky.

- Rocky!

- Stop him!

Rocky!

- Well, you let him get away.

- What was I supposed to do?

Well, I'm calling the police. That

madman just kidnapped my grandchildren.

Where are you going?

Hi. Turn left.

Go up that street.

What do you think you're doing?

You think you can just take them?

- Why not? You're giving 'em away.

- Knock it off!.

- Where are my kids?

- They're at their mother's grave.

You don't know where it is, do ya?

You haven't been back here

since the funeral.

Oh, Michael.

We have.

The kids come,

they plant flowers...

and I walk around here

and say hello to my friends.

They don't say much back,

but that's all right.

They talked too much

when they was alive.

There's your kids.

They're down at the

bottom of the hill.

Michael...

I remember

sitting in a room.

I seen a look on this

brave kid's face...

and he's wondering what the hell

is gonna happen to him.

I see the same look

on those kids' faces.

They're wondering where

the hell their father is.

Go say hello to the living.

Hi.

Hi.

How are you two doing?

Okay.

Lisa?

She thinks it's her fault.

- What?

- That Mom's dead.

'Cause I got sick.

What about you? Y-You

think it's your fault too?

Maybe.

Well, it's not.

I miss Mom as much as you do,

but it's not your fault.

It's nobody's fault.

Come here.

Lisa, come here.

- I love you.

- I love you too.

- I love you very much.

- I love you, Daddy.

We're gonna be fine.

We're gonna be okay.

Well, I see you found them. Good.

Come on. Let's get them

back to the house.

I've arranged for a car

to take us to Columbus.

- They're not going.

- What?

My kids are staying with me.

Michael, we discussed this.

Now will you be reasonable?

Reason and family got nothing

to do with one another.

Michael, I will take you to court, I swear.

I will not have my grandchildren raised...

Conversation over.

# Happy birthday to you

# Happy birthday to you

# Happy birthday, dear Rocky

# Happy birthday to you #

Now what in the hell is this?

- It's your birthday, Rocky.

- We baked you a cake.

Birthday?

I don't got no birthday.

When you were admitted, a nurse asked

you a whole bunch of questions.

One of them was, "When were you born?"

I'm afraid you answered.

I lied.

Blow out the candles anyway.

Give him a boost, would you, Sue?

Goody.

Help him out, Mo.

- Yea! - Yea!

- Yea!

I'm gonna taste this cake.

Uh-oh.

Oh!

That's not my recipe.

It's Beth's.

It's not bad.

Who baked it?

Daddy. We helped.

Daddy? You should've

been a baker.

I think one in the family's enough.

I'll eat this... later on.

Okay, kids, we gotta let

Rocky get his rest now.

Okay, let's go outside

and play quietly now.

Listen to what Susan

tells you, okay?

How're we doin'?

You wanna read the paper?

Let's see what we got here.

"Classified."

"Auto... auto...

baby-sitter... baker."

Hey, what do you know!

The Luzzanos are still in business.

They still need a master baker.

Interested?

Nah, who could work

for them?

What else we got here?

"Chinese bakery."

Chinese bakery? You know

anything about Chinese bread?

Damn communists.

They don't eat bread.

Here's a good one. "Experienced cake

designer. Regal Bakery. Weekends only."

That sounds pretty good.

I'll mark that.

Michael.

What?

I've...

always... been proud of you.

Hey. It's okay, Rocky.

You can let go now.

I'm all right.

I can do it alone now.

You can let go.

Shhh.

I love you.

Good-bye, Grandpa.

I drive the car pool

every Tuesday.

I try to be home

for dinner every night.

And Sundays are still

cookie time in Pittsburgh.

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