We Don't Live Here Anymore Page #4

I don't know if I wanna know.

- Hey.

- Hey.

- How was your run?

- Great.

Lobsters.

F*** you.

- Mom!

- Dad!

- What's the matter?

- Still wet.

Lay down. I'll be back in a second.

- What else, Terry? What else?

- What?

Relax. I'll do them

as soon as I finish this.

It's not what you didn't do, it's why.

Why do we live

in the foulest house I know?

Why is it that you say you love our children

and they go unbathed for days?

Right now Sean is upstairs

sleeping in last night's piss.

I forgot.

Goddamn it!

Goddamn it, Terry. F***ing lazy.

It's okay, baby. It's okay.

Stay here and I'll be back.

I'll take the sheets.

It's just a little bit wet, that's okay.

It's okay, honey. I love you.

Go back to sleep. Love you.

All right.

- I wanna talk to you.

- I'm gonna do the dishes.

- No. Now.

- Talk to me while I'm doing the dishes.

- Terry...

- Sit down.

Don't you take anything. Listen to me.

I am tired of being judged.

Who are you to judge me?

Now, I forgot that Sean wet his bed...

...but if you got them up one morning

out of every thousand...

...if you loved them the way you say

you do... Oh, that was shitty.

Accusing me of not loving

my own children?

That's just the way you fight,

like a catty, bitchy woman.

And you know what? If you ever got

them up in the last four or five nights...

...you would've known he hadn't

wet his bed.

Come on. He wet his bed three nights ago

and I know that because he told me.

- So what?

- So? You never get the facts right.

You always get it wrong, Terry. Wrong!

You never, ever, ever get it right. It's

the same thing with the sheets, the bills...

You always find a way to blow it.

You always have an excuse...

...and you're always wrong.

- So, what do you want me to do?

- Do? There's something you can do?

- You son of a b*tch!

- Terry!

- Son of a b*tch!

You son of a b*tch!

Goddamn it. Goddamn it, Jack.

Goddamn it!

Oh, f***.

It was the day after payday,

and I gave Hank $50 I had owed him.

Oh, my God, I can't believe this.

He paid me!

He made a big deal about

not needing the money.

Thank you so much.

Then, later that night, he f***ed my wife

in the front seat of my car.

Where were you?

Woke up, couldn't get to sleep,

so I went for a walk.

You don't have to tell me that.

I've been up since 1:30.

You're such a bastard.

- Did you ever go to sleep?

- Yes.

- Sure you did.

- What, I was tired. Yes.

- Why didn't you just bring me to bed?

- Why didn't you come to bed?

Because I need to be made love to.

You don't make love to me anymore.

You f*** me.

I sat on those steps with Hank and

he held my hand and he listened to me.

He listened to me while I talked

about this shitty marriage.

And he told me he felt close to me.

And I was happy when he said it.

And I was happy

when I made love to him.

I was so goddamn happy for a minute,

and then I thought of you.

I just wanted to be here with you

and get us back.

And be in this f***ing bed,

in this house...

...with my husband and my kids

where I belong.

That's a really admirable sentiment, Terry.

F***.

Jack...

...right now I love you...

...maybe more than I have for years.

But I am angry.

I am so f***ing angry, Jack, way down,

because you set this f***ing thing up.

You set it up and it happened. And I don't

know what else is gonna happen.

Why? You gonna see him again?

God. Jesus Christ, Jack.

I don't know.

What?

Then it's over.

Is that what you're saying?

What's wrong with you?

Think making love is like smoking?

- It's...

- It's what?

It's a promise.

You promised him you'll see him again.

I didn't say anything.

Opening my legs is a promise.

And he didn't say anything, either?

He must have said something.

Oh, my God, you like this.

You want details, huh?

Fine.

We drove around for a while.

He put his hand on my tit...

...and I practically got off

just from him touching me.

You know what happened then?

We parked and we f***ed like crazy.

And you know what, Jack?

I came before he did.

And the second time, I was on top.

And I looked in his face,

I looked right in his eyes...

...and I told him I loved him.

- That's enough, all right?

Enough.

You should be knocking my teeth out,

but not you, huh?

Not you. Because you like it.

Wanna watch us, Jack?

This comes to you...

F*** who you want, when you want...

...but don't give me half-assed insights into

the soul of a man you have never understood.

Your insights suck.

Oh, Jesus Christ.

My "half-assed insights."

"Into the soul of a man

I don't understand."

You poor baby.

Oh, my God.

You poor little baby.

You talk and talk.

You think you know yourself,

but you know what?

You're a pervert.

I'm gonna go to sleep. We got a couple

of kids that are getting up soon.

You're not known for getting breakfast.

I'll do it. Forget it.

Thanks. It's one thing you can help with.

Unfortunately, you can't help me

with my other problem.

See, Jack, I'm not sure what to do.

I mean, tomorrow. What do I say?

"Gee, Hank, that was last night...

...and this is now, and I just don't know

if I wanna f*** anymore."

You gotta admit,

even adultery has morality to it.

So I got some things to figure out.

- You do what you can.

- Thanks, Jack.

- Good night.

- I'll do what I can.

- Hello.

- They did it last night.

Come over.

Wait, wait, wait. Where's Hank?

- He's sleeping.

- Upstairs?

Yeah. He'll go to the bathroom first,

don't worry.

- We'll hear him. Come on, f*** me.

- Okay.

Oh, God.

Come on back here!

Come on. Take the gold! Get the gold!

He's gonna hit that guy soon.

- Which guy?

- The big fat mean guy.

How do you know?

Because if he doesn't hit him,

he won't feel good about himself.

Go to sleep.

Tanya, we'll be back at 12:30.

Don't talk to boys.

Tanya, can you put two shirts on them?

They get cold at night. Thanks.

- Just one.

- Bye, Mama. See you later.

Night, gang.

- Finally.

- Congratulations.

I have to thank my lovely muse.

- Hey, Joe. How's it going?

- Good.

- Hank's in good shape these days.

- He's always in good shape. All days.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. New Yorker.

- Hey, Hank, The New Yorker.

- Hey.

- Smooth.

- Christ.

Don't know if I can handle this.

Be careful what you ask for,

you just might get it.

- So cheers to Hank.

- Hank.

Good night.

Of course.

Terry's tired. I'm gonna run her home.

Take your car, okay?

- Have fun.

- Enjoyed it. Nice.

- He's giving her a lift home.

- Among other things.

I think you should tell him now.

- I can't.

- Why not?

- I don't know.

- Why not?

I don't know.

- Don't.

- What?

I'd like to just concentrate on

hating his guts right now.

Not this way, not after 10 f***ing years.

I just spent the last three hours at Willie's.

You know, the bar

all the bag ladies drink in?

Alone in a bar for the first time in my life.

Alone in a bar.

- What happened?

- Never mind what happened.

- All right.

- That's why you have strikes against me.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes