Stuck in Love
I remember that it hurt.
Looking at her hurt.
Your... your... your nose.
Oh, oh, it does that sometimes.
- Hey.
- Hi.
I never enjoy anything.
I'm always waiting
for whatever's next.
I think everyone's like that...
living life in fast forward,
never stopping to
enjoy the moment,
too busy trying to rush
through everything,
so we can get on with what we're really
supposed to be doing with our lives.
I get these flashes of
clarity, brilliant clarity,
where, for a second,
I stop and I think,
"Wait, this is it.
"This is my life. I'd better
slow down and enjoy it,
"because one day, we're all
going to end up in the ground,
"and that will be it.
We'll be gone.
Um... what?
Let's just fast forward through all
the drunken seduction bullshit...
we have to look forward to.
You don't look like you'd
be very good at it anyway,
and I don't want to sit here and listen
to you bumblefuck your way through it.
We both want the same thing,
to go back to your room, have sex,
and never see each other again.
Are you with me?
Is this a trick?
The offer is about to expire.
No, no, I'm in.
I'm definitely in.
Do you like that book?
No, God, no.
No, it's my idiot brother's
favorite book.
Is it yours?
No, no.
It's my roommate's.
I'm not really much of a reader.
Good.
Now come here.
Yes, ma'am.
As I stood there staring
through the window
into my ex- wife's new life,
I was overcome by the
oddest sensation.
Watching her with this man was
like turning on a familiar sitcom
and realizing they had replaced one
of the lead actors with a stranger.
The show was the same, but the
thespian who played William Borgens
for nearly twenty years was gone.
And in his place was a
younger, dumber model.
What was that, boy?
Oh, sh*t.
Down! Heel! F***ing dog!
Rusty...
Oh yeah.
There you go.
You got that bowl?
Hey!
Just rock it on there.
Get him on there.
Gentle, gentle.
There you go.
Got it?
Don't push that hard.
All right.
There we go.
Yeah.
Dad, she's here.
Ready?
Hi, I'm back.
Dad...
Smells good.
Well, they said that you
have to go back there?
They just said that I think you
might have to end up paying for it.
No, but they're going to cancel
the whole thing? The appointment?
Yeah, they're canceling it.
It's over, basically...
My book is being published!
Oh, my God.
Congratulations.
Thank you. Thanks, Dad.
Oh, my God.
We're so proud of you.
What house is it?
Scribner.
What?
That's King's publisher.
Yeah,no, they're great.
Great.
We got to have a toast. We have
to have a toast. Scribner?
Yeah, that's exactly what I was
thinking when I submitted the book.
This will really piss
Rusty off.
It's not because they publish books
by Hemingway or Kurt Vonnegut.
David McCullough, Frank McCourt.
F. Scott Fitzgerald,
Bob f***ing Dylan.
I didn't know you had
dibs on Scribner.
I never said I had dibs, Samantha.
I just was...
You're just jealous.
Wow.
I'm not jealous.
What an accomplishment.
Your sister is having her first
book published, all right?
This is a cause for celebration.
This is what the holidays
are all about.
Okay, cool.
You might want to congratulate her.
Congratulations.
Thank you.
Geez, I didn't have my first
book published until...
I don't know.
I was 25 or 26.
I would have been happy
to call those guys.
I know them all over there.
I submitted it under a fake name
and didn't tell them whose
daughter I was
until after was accepted.
I wouldn't have minded.
I know. I just... Because you
wanted it to be about your book
and not about being my daughter.
Yeah. Okay, well, this
is a toast... psst.
To you and your first novel.
Just Saying Hi.
Oh, it's not Just Saying Hi.
Did they make you
change the title?
No, they're not publishing
Just Saying Hi.
It's a different book.
What?
I put that aside for now,
and I wrote a new one.
When?
Over the summer.
What happened
to Just Saying Hi?
You were excited about that.
I was excit... I put a lot of
work and effort into that.
I proofed the manuscript
and I...
I know.
I'm sorry. I...
I... I... I thought my opinion
meant something.
It does. Dad.
You know it does.
And yet you turn around and
write an entirely new book
and don't think
to share it with me?
I'm sorry.
Something's burning.
Congratulations.
Why would you let him set
that place at the table?
I set it.
He asked me to.
Yeah, well, she's not coming.
I'm about to head over there.
You should come.
Give Dad a chance to cool off.
I'm not going over there.
Fine.
Suit yourself.
I'll tell her you said hi.
You can tell Mom
to drop dead.
Whoa...
This food is so good.
Glad you like it.
So how did everything
go over at your Dad's?
It was good. Sam's getting
a book published.
What?
That was my reaction, too.
That's great.
I always thought your dad making you
and your sister keep journals was...
a little strange, but...
sounds like it's paying off.
- I can't believe it.
- Why is it's strange?
Rusty, just let that go.
No, why is it strange?
I just want to know why you
think it's so strange.
Well, it just seems like
he was forcing you
to be writers...
instead of allowing
you to choose to be.
We don't have to keep the
journals if we don't want to.
You'd have to get
a job if you stopped.
He pays us to do it so we
can focus on our writing
instead of working some
bullshit job at McDonald's.
Rusty...
What?
What?
Are you stoned?
Are you kidding?
Are you being...
I'm not stoned. Rusty, I'd like
to talk to you in the kitchen.
I think you're stoned.
Great. Good.
I'm going.
What's gotten into you?
I'm not going to let
that Neanderthal...
talk about Dad like that.
He didn't say anything
about your father.
It's not what he says.
It's how he talks about him like he's
some sort of weirdo or something.
And watching football doesn't
make you a Neanderthal.
Owning his own gym does.
Okay,enough.
Enough.
Is Sam's book really getting published?
That's what she said.
Wow.
It's been over a year
since we spoke.
I know.
She said to say hi to you.
I don't believe that
for a second, but...
it's very sweet of you to say.
Aw, Mom.
Please don't ever hate
me the way she hates me.
I don't hate you at all, Mom.
Good, but you are stoned,
though, aren't you.
I thought it would make
it easier to eat again.
Pot and nothing else,
ever, you understand me?
You don't have to worry
about me, Mom.
Yeah, I do.
It's my job.
I cleared the table
and started the dishes.
Sorry I reacted the way I did.
I was just surprised.
I thought you were
happy with the book.
I was.
It just didn't seem like
my book anymore.
It felt like,
someone else's...
My editorial hand a little
heavy for you? Yes, Dad.
I was scared of how you'd react,
and I felt guilty because of all the
work you put into Just Saying Hi.
I'm sorry...
Stop apologizing.
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