The Family Man Page #3

ADELLE:

Oh, and Oxxford called...

JACK:

Ooh, my suits are ready...

He gets to the last message, sees the name on it, and

reels back.

JACK (CONT'D)

Kate Reynolds...

ADELLE:

Her assistant said you could

call her at home after eight.

Jack stares at the message like he's looking at a

ghost.

JACK:

Her assistant?

ADELLE:

Yeah Jack, her assistant...

JACK:

(lost in the message)

Kate Reynolds was my

girlfriend in college. I

almost married her...

ADELLE:

(a hearty LAUGH)

You? Married?

JACK:

(snapping out of it)

Almost married. And almost a

junior broker at E.F.

Hutton...

ADELLE:

Excuse me?

JACK:

She didn't want me to go to

London. We're standing at the

airport saying goodbye and she

asks me to stay.

ADELLE:

So you left her? Just like

that?

JACK:

God, no. I thought about it

for practically the entire

flight...

ADELLE:

Stop Jack, I'm getting all

weepy.

JACK:

I took the road less traveled,

Adelle.

ADELLE:

And look where it's led you...

(picking up the phone)

I'm gonna get her on the

phone...

Jack pauses, focused on the message, his mind drifting

back...

Adelle begins dialing the number. Finally, Jack

reaches out and hangs up the phone.

JACK:

No...

ADELLE:

No?! You almost married this

woman. Aren't you even

curious what she wants?

JACK:

She's probably just having a

fit of nostalgia. You know,

lonely Christmas Eve, call the

one that got away, that kind

of thing.

Adelle rolls her eyes at him.

JACK (CONT'D)

I'm telling you, it's ancient

history...

Jack looks up as PETER LASSITER, 60s, founder and

chairman of P.K. Lassiter and Associates, saunters into

the room.

LASSITER:

Eight forty-five on Christmas

Eve and Jack Campbell is still

at his desk. There's a

Hallmark moment for you...

Lassiter heads to the bar like he's done it a million

times.

JACK:

Peter. I don't see you

rushing home to trim the tree.

LASSITER:

(pouring himself

a scotch)

That's because I'm a heartless

bastard who only cares about

money.

JACK:

And God love you for it.

Lassiter drops down in a soft leather chair opposite

Jack.

LASSITER:

(sipping the scotch)

I just got a call from Terry

Haight. Bob Thomas is

nervous...

JACK:

That'll happen when you're

about to spend thirty billion

dollars on some aspirin...

LASSITER:

Someone's gonna have to nurse

him through this.

JACK:

Why are you staring at my

breasts, Peter?

LASSITER:

I need you, tiger..

JACK:

Where is he?

LASSITER:

Aspen.

Jack pauses for a beat.

JACK:

(to Adelle)

Call Aunt Irma. Tell her I

won't be able to make it

tomorrow...

Adelle rolls her eyes at him...

LASSITER:

You're a credit to capitalism,

Jack.

Jack glances at Adelle, then looks back at Lassiter.

JACK:

Hey Peter, lemme ask you a

question. An old girlfriend

calls you out of the blue on

Christmas Eve...

LASSITER:

You suddenly having trouble

getting dates?

JACK:

Not by a long shot.

LASSITER:

Then leave it in the past.

Old flames are like old tax

returns. You keep `em in the

file cabinet for three years

and then you cut `em loose.

Jack shoots Adelle a satisfied smile, crumpling up

Kate's message and tossing a perfect hook into a N.Y.

Knicks hoop.

JACK:

(to Adelle)

I'll leave from the office

tomorrow afternoon. Call the

group. Schedule an emergency

strategy session for noon.

ADELLE:

That'll be a nice little

holiday treat.

15EXT. LASSITER BUILDING - NIGHT

A single light remains on in the building.

16INT. JACK'S OFFICE - SAME TIME

Jack is alone in the office working on his computer,

checking spreadsheets on a large flat screen monitor.

Jack leans back in his chair rubbing his eyes. He

checks his watch. It's past eleven. He gets up, goes

to the window, sees the city in all its Christmas

glory, then he see it...

...the message from Kate, crumpled in the

trashcan...then turns back to the window, gazing out at

the night...

17INT. LASSITER BUILDING - NIGHT

Jack comes out of the elevator, walking past the lobby

desk where FRANK, a security guard, sits watching the

monitors.

FRANK:

Mr. Campbell. Why didn't you

call down, I would've had Joe

get your ride.

Jack looks outside the front door to the snowy, quiet

street.

JACK:

I'm thinking I might walk

tonight, Frank.

FRANK:

Nice night for it. I'll have

Louis send your car home.

A nod from Jack.

FRANK (CONT'D)

Merry Christmas to you, sir...

JACK:

Thanks. To you too...

Jack puts on a pair of soft leather gloves and heads

out into the crisp night air...

18EXT. LASSITER BUILDING - CONTINOUS

Jack emerges from the building, walking across the

large plaza, past the fountain...snow begins to fall...

19EXT. MANHATTAN STREET - A LITTLE LATER

Jack's walking down the nearly empty street, snow

falling down on him, a bounce in his step, looking at

the windows of the closed shops along the way.

He gets to the end of the block spots the Wong

Brothers' 24 Hour Deli across the street...

He heads toward it...

20INT. WONG BROTHERS' DELI - SECONDS LATER

Jack walks into the brightly lit deli...

SAM WONG, 20s, is with his 80-year-old GRANDFATHER

behind the counter. There's a NERDY COLLEGE KID at the

salad bar, a drunken DEPARTMENT STORE SANTA at the

liquor display, a WOMAN with a BABY in an aisle and...

...a BLACK MAN, 30s, with a dollar sign and the name

"CASH" tattooed on his arm, stands in front of the

coffee machine...

CASH:

Oh yeah...yeah, yee-ah! She's

a certified winner...paper-

thin but good as gold...

Jack notices Cash talking to himself, seemingly crazy.

Jack approaches Sam Wong at the counter.

JACK:

Egg nog?

SAM WONG:

(pointing)

Dairy case. Five dollar.

CASH:

(in the b.g., to

Sam Wong)

Y'all do the lotto here...?

`Cause I got me a winner...I

know, I know, Lotto keeps the

black man down... but not

me...

Jack grabs a carton of egg nog, then notices Cash

handing Sam Wong his ticket. Jack heads back toward

the counter...

CASH (CONT'D)

...06...14...18...48...right

there. Four numbers...that's

two hundred and thirty eight

dollar...

(a smile)

Merry Christmas and sh*t...

SAM WONG:

(barely looking

at ticket)

Ticket bad. You draw in lines

with pencil.

CASH:

What're you talkin' about?

SAM WONG:

(throwing the ticket

back)

You draw lines with pencil! I

know about this!

The woman with the baby looks over...the college kid

looks up, nervous...the drunken Santa, bottle of

bourbon in hand, starts to walk by Jack...Jack

instinctively puts an arm out, holding the Santa

back...

CASH:

What!? Look at the ticket...!

SAM WONG:

Get out, I call 911.

The Santa looks at Jack, confused.

CASH:

You're lookin' at me, you're

not even lookin' at the

ticket!

The woman with the baby puts a loaf of bread back on

the shelf, starts nervously inching toward the door.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote