The Disappearance of Eleanor Rigby: Them Page #4

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Seriously.

Oh, oh, oh, car, car, car, car. Do the

thing! Do the thing! Do the thing!

Do the... Shh. Shh.

I don't want them

to see your ta-tas.

We're good, we're good.

- Help me.

- What?

You know what you're doing.

Stop it.

- There you go. Should I do it?

- Yeah.

OK, this is kind of counter-intuitive.

I think I'm instinctually wired

not to be able to do this.

There we go.

Three, two, one.

Just like that.

- You look good.

- Very impressed.

We have to listen to this?

Hey!

You want it? You want it?

- Top 40?

- No.

- Country?

- No.

Can I have some?

- Baby?

- Mmm-hmm.

- As comfortable as this is...

- Mmm-hmm.

...I'm losing circulation in my legs.

- What are you trying to say?

- That you're fat.

And I love every pound of you.

Come here.

Mmm.

Did you see where my shirt went?

Try the backseat.

- Where are you going?

- Out here.

You coming?

Yeah.

Where are we?

Someplace good.

- Amazing.

- I know.

It went that badly?

I could've given him

a normal kiss good night

instead of jamming

my tongue down his throat.

So he's cool?

I am so f***ed.

You have a little to drink tonight?

Yeah.

What's that?

Philip gave it to me so I won't

be afraid of the dark.

You still having trouble with that?

Yeah, guess so. Come on.

Were you OK with him?

Yeah.

Oh, I don't mean...

That's not what I was...

I just...

I'm OK.

Is it OK to be OK?

Yeah, be OK all you want.

Are you really OK?

I can pretend.

All of a sudden, I kind of miss him.

Who?

Conor.

He came by the house the other day.

He talked with mom,

and she told me not to tell you.

I'm sorry, Katy.

What for?

I feel like I just dropped in

on you guys,

and I sucked all the air

out of the room.

You are kind of a selfish b*tch.

Hey.

You don't have to be so honest.

No.

I was really mad at you.

I know.

- I'm still really mad at you.

- I know.

And you pulled the floorboards

out from under Conor.

He threw Cody's stuff into the closet.

And then ten minutes later,

he ordered Chinese from Madame Wu's.

I tried for six months.

We were a million miles away

in the same room, and...

...I started to think thoughts

I never thought I'd have.

How have you and mom made it this far?

I'm not sure.

Endurance.

Everyone starts out thinking,

"This is forever."

But then things get hard,

at some point or another.

And then other things don't pan out

the way you thought they would.

I suppose the trick is

not running for the hills,

even when you think it's

the most rational thing to do.

I don't know.

- I hate this room.

- I've seen worse.

- Where?

- Huh?

Where have you seen worse?

- NYU, Yale...

- Oh, Yale's butt ugly.

New Haven's butt ugly.

Did you attend any

of those fine institutions?

NYU, and then I grew up at Yale

when my dad was there.

- Oh, of course, you're a faculty brat.

- Mmm-hmm.

You and my son would

get along like hotcakes.

Not that I'm trying to set you up

or anything.

He lives in Washington, the state.

He's been pretending to write a novel

there for the last four years.

Learn anything interesting at NYU?

I abandoned a dissertation.

- Mmm, bold!

- Mmm-hmm.

- What department?

- Anthropology.

Mmm, social? Linguistic?

I was writing an ethnography

on the social world

of performance artists in Paris.

Musicians, dancers, actors, et cetera.

Why?

I don't know. My mom is a musician

and she's French, so...

No, I mean why did you abandon it?

Don't tell me something stupid

like love.

You're very talkative.

- It's more fun listening to you.

- You'll get over that.

I got pregnant.

Ah, that.

Come on, wake up.

Wake up.

What?

I went into your room

to check about you,

and you were gone

and the car was gone.

Yeah, I went for a drive.

Well, don't ever do it again.

Why were you checking on me?

I've always checked on you.

You feeling a bit dramatic today?

No, why?

OK.

I played second violin on this.

Boston Symphony. Itzhak Perlman.

I haven't forgotten.

No, I was just reminding myself.

What?

I never wanted to be a mother.

Not much you can do about that now.

Yeah. It's too late.

I was too young when I had you.

I was the baby.

Why are you telling me this?

I'm telling you this because...

I don't want to lie to you.

I don't want you to take

our relationship too personally.

I don't.

- No.

- Give... No, give me my wine.

Give me my wine.

Why didn't you tell me Conor came

by the house the other day?

Run for your life, El.

What is that supposed to mean?

Well, this is all too realistic.

Run away for a while.

You sure you're not projecting?

Yes, yes, I'm sure I'm not projecting.

You liked your semester in Paris,

so why don't you go back there

and finish your dissertation?

You could write in cafes,

read Le Monde et Les Inrocks.

Eat bread, make eyes at strangers.

Yeah, I could.

So why are you still here?

I don't know.

I don't get it, man.

What don't you get?

Well, your dad is, like,

the, like, a culinary maverick.

He's, like, the Mick Jagger

of the restaurant game.

All you got to do is make one phone call

and it saves our asses,

but instead you want us to drown,

like 90 percent

of the other restaurants in the city.

- I don't get it.

- Stu, Stu...

Well, I... What did he do?

What do you mean, "What did he do?"

Your dad, what did he do?

I mean, at least take a page out

of his book. What did he do?

- He married my mom.

- What does that mean?

That means he married my mom.

She gave him all the money

that her family left her,

and he opened the restaurant.

It was a big success and then

he dropped her like a bad habit.

So, you know what?

Why don't you go and find yourself

some lonely loaded old lady

- and then we can take it from there.

- Well...

You know what, I'd rather fail

catastrophically than, you know,

give him the satisfaction of thinking

he handed me my life on a platter.

That is the stupidest thing

in the history of stupid things

- to say.

- Whoa, why is that stupid?

You know what's stupid? You think I'm

gonna call my dad, and he's gonna go,

"Hey, son, why don't you come and bring

your friends, they can work here, too."

- Yeah!

- It's not a f***ing slumber party.

It's not a slumber party,

it's a job.

- Stu, as decent a cook as you are...

- I'm a chef.

All right, chef, you don't exactly

cut it in those kitchens.

Oh, relax. You don't want

to have this conversation.

No, let's talk about it. When's

the last time you julienned a carrot?

- All right.

- Seriously.

When's the last time you cooked an egg

and you didn't blanch the yolk?

You know, in those kinds of kitchens,

in that world...

- I've been pulling my weight fine.

- ...you would be a busboy.

- You fuckhead. F***ing failure.

- Yeah, no. I'm telling you.

- Those glasses need picking up.

- You're Spencer Ludlow's son. F*** you.

- You like that? F***ing a**hole.

- Wait! Whoa!

You hit me with f***ing kale?

That all you got? Come on.

Oh, God! Jesus.

Ow.

Ow.

Ow, ow, oh.

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