by Brad Fraser
NORMA: That’ll make you popular. Eat. The pork things rock.
TRICIA: Internet porn has made a lot of unimaginative people realize there are a lot more choices than they were aware of.
NORMA: Everything’s so accessible. Ten years ago if these kids knew some of that stuff they know now it would’ve been a sure sign of sexual abuse. Now it just means they know how to work a mouse.
TRICIA: When we were girls seeing a man’s dick in a movie or magazine was like totally verboten.
NORMA: Just didn’t happen.
TRICIA: But now.
NORMA: Penis is the new tits.
TRICIA: Exactly.
NORMA: Dating anyone new?
TRICIA: Need a break.
NORMA: You’ll meet someone. You always do.
TRICIA: I’m not really that concerned.
NORMA: Seriously?
TRICIA: It’s like the older I’ve gotten the less it’s mattered. I mean it’d be great to meet someone I adore but all the shit that comes with a relationship—not so much.
NORMA: I don’t think I could handle being on my own.
TRICIA: Don’t sell yourself short.
NORMA: Olivia’s enough for me.
NORMA shuffles the cards.
TRICIA: Speaking of.
NORMA: Yeah?
TRICIA: Olivia’s drinking slash puking thing.
NORMA: Tricia.
TRICIA: She has a problem Norma.
NORMA: What can I do besides express my concern?
TRICIA: Ask her to stop.
NORMA: Do you think I haven’t?
TRICIA: Why can’t she just get pissed like everyone else? Why does it always get stupid or ugly? I don’t get it.
NORMA deals.
NORMA: She hardly ever does anything embarrassing.
TRICIA: She did barf on me.
NORMA: It’s not like you never barfed on her.
TRICIA: That was thirty-two years ago with four people crammed into the back seat of a Honda Civic while drinking lemon gin. It’s not even remotely the same thing.
NORMA: We are middle-aged people. We need to be tolerant of one another.
TRICIA: Not if it makes things worse.
NORMA: I’ll let you know when it’s a problem.
TRICIA: You don’t think her behaviour at the party was a problem?
NORMA: No. And that’s my opinion as a doctor and her partner.
TRICIA: Normal—
NORMA: Stop.
Pause.
TRICIA: Deal.
NORMA deals the cards. They discard to the crib and play.
Two.
NORMA: Pair for four.
TRICIA: Triple pair for six.
NORMA: Nine for fifteen.
TRICIA: Nine for twenty-four.
NORMA: Three for twenty-seven.
TRICIA: Three more for thirty two for a pair and a go for one.
NORMA: You are the devil.
TRICIA: I am.
Lights rise on FERN alone, stretching.
FERN: He’s solid. Reliable. The perfect husband and father. A very nice body even if he is a bit short. I wanted his children. I wanted his sperm inside of me. I just did. From the second I saw him. I’d never—it was like I had no choice. So I married him and I thought I was the luckiest young woman in the whole wide world. I was going to have his babies and that was exactly what I wanted.
LORENE enters.
LORENE: Is that all you do?
FERN: Staying fit is the best way to battle things like depression and bone loss.
LORENE: Menopause. Oy.
FERN: I can’t stand the hot flashes and the dry eyes.
LORENE opens the fridge and gets herself some water.
LORENE: I can’t stand that I’ve been having my period for the last three months.
FERN: Eew.
LORENE: Just a slight but constant ooze.
FERN: I’m intermittent and spotty.
LORENE: Did you go through that phase where anything touching your vagina was painful?
FERN: No. Just a bit dry. How did the lunch with Olivia go?
LORENE: Okay.
FERN: Did you talk about her drinking?
LORENE: No.
FERN: Tissue’s gonna be pissed.
LORENE: Tissue isn’t the boss of me.
FERN: But you said.
LORENE: Shit happens. Anyway it could be just a power thing. You know how she and Olivia are.
FERN: They’ve always been at each other.
LORENE: It’s because Trish and Norma get on so well.
FERN: I always thought they were more compatible.
LORENE: I know. But you know how straight Tricia is.
FERN: I don’t think she’s into fat people either.
LORENE: Olivia’s always resented her.
FERN: Ever since the Ophelia event.
LORENE: Yes.
TRICIA enters. She goes to the fridge and looks for a diet cola.
TRICIA: You’re not really speculating that my concern for Olivia comes from the fact that she still thinks I stole the part of Ophelia from her in our high school production of Hamlet are you?
LORENE: You’re a witch.
FERN: It’s her bionic hearing.
TRICIA: You chickened out on talking to her.
LORENE: I got—sidetracked.
TRICIA: Oh for.
LORENE: She brought up my kids.
Pause.
TRICIA: That’s unfair.
LORENE: Is it? Those kids are personal territory for me. A private thing. That’s what she was telling me about her drinking. It’s a private thing. If I want to talk about her private thing she gets to talk about my private thing. Isn’t that how it works?
TRICIA: Not if your private thing is killing you.
LORENE: I’m not really prepared to get all confrontational over this.
FERN: What did Norma say?
TRICIA: Mind your own business.
LORENE: See.
TRICIA: So we just stand by and watch her drink herself to death?
LORENE: It’s what our mothers did for our fathers.
FERN: My father rarely drank. Why is she an alcoholic anyway?
LORENE: I never knew her mother to drink.
TRICIA: That woman barely left the house.
LORENE: And the father died so young.
FERN: Maybe witnessing the accident did it to her.
TRICIA: We’ve all got childhood traumas.
LORENE: Not as good as yours.
FERN: Really.
LORENE: All of those mining towns and trailer parks.
FERN: And those creepy drunken relatives.
TRICIA: And while my Dickensian childhood may make me severely screwed up I am not a drunk. Although I should be. Also a heroin addict and a serial killer. But I am not.
LORENE: There’s no way we can win at this.
TRICIA: She’s our friend.
LORENE: It’s too bloody hard.
TRICIA: So that’s it?
LORENE: Yeah.
LORENE exits.
FERN: What more can we do?
FERN exits.
TRICIA: Shit.
Lights rise on OLIVIA checking the place settings on a large restaurant table as she speaks.
OLIVIA: I remember my mother holding me on the edge of this wide empty—airfield I guess—and this strong hot wind from the helicopter. It took my breath away. I like to think there were visible forest fires on the hills around us but that might just be adding detail from what I learned later. I do remember the smell of smoke. There’s a man waving to me from the helicopter only he’s wearing a flight suit and a helmet with a mask so I can’t see his face but he’s completely my father. I can tell from the way he’s standing and waving. Then the helicopter’s taking off and everyone’s clapping and there’s this poof sound—not very loud—and an orange ball in the air where the helicopter was. That’s my dad. The hero in the orange ball of flame that goes poof over the airfield on
its way to rescue some people from a forest fire. Orange ball. Poof. Bye.
TRICIA enters.
TRICIA: Hi.
OLIVIA: Early.
TRICIA: Where’s Norma?
OLIVIA: There was some thing at the office so she’s gonna be late.
TRICIA: Place cards?
OLIVIA: It’s a special occasion.
TRICIA: Does it really matter where we sit?
OLIVIA: It matters to me.
TRICIA: Nice wines.
OLIVIA: Yes.
TRICIA: May I?
OLIVIA: Go ahead. I told the waiter to hold on cocktail orders until everyone arrives.
TRICIA: Great spread.
OLIVIA: These are just the starters. Wait until you see what the dinner choices are. Braised beef ribs—
TRICIA: How ’bout we let the menu be a lovely surprise. Did you hear my column about the Rochester’s illegal demise has been nominated for a Bakely?
OLIVIA: A what?
TRICIA: This national press award.
OLIVIA: Nice do you like the centrepiece?
TRICIA: Beautiful. You’re looking good.
OLIVIA: New hair style.
TRICIA: Brightens you up quite nicely.
OLIVIA: The dress is new too.
TRICIA: I can tell. Have you been drinking?
OLIVIA: I have a dinner to pull together.
TRICIA: Good for you.
OLIVIA: I’m not hopeless Trish.
TRICIA: Things are alright?
OLIVIA: Of course.
TRICIA: No pressure at work? Nothing bad happening at home?
OLIVIA: Are you like trying to talk to me about my drinking?
TRICIA: Yes.
OLIVIA: It’s not a problem.
TRICIA: You puked on me.
OLIVIA: And you puked on me.
TRICIA: Don’t you people ever let anything go?
OLIVIA: And it just happened to be the night Hamlet closed.
TRICIA: We were coming home from the cast party. Everyone was blitzed.
OLIVIA: After your triumphant performance.
TRICIA: I did not steal Ophelia from you. We both read for it and Mr. Dockins thought I read better.
OLIVIA: You got all the leads. Laura in Glass Menagerie the mother in Man-in-the-Moon Marigolds Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof.
TRICIA: It’s not my fault none of the boys could sing low enough.
OLIVIA: Just let me play Ophelia I asked. It’s my favourite play. My favourite part. All you had to do was you know tone your reading down a bit. Be a little less—good—for a change.
TRICIA: You always do this.
OLIVIA: What?
TRICIA: Start in on all this old shit that doesn’t matter any more until I have no choice but to.
OLIVIA: What?
TRICIA: Nothing.
OLIVIA: Tell me.
TRICIA: Let it go.
OLIVIA: You do love to make it all about you.
TRICIA: What are you talking about? I didn’t—
OLIVIA: Little miss me me me me me.
TRICIA: I did tone my reading down.
Pause.
OLIVIA: Liar.
TRICIA: Whatever.
OLIVIA: More wine?
TRICIA: Thanx.
OLIVIA refills TRICIA’s glass and then pours herself a glass as well.
I thought you weren’t drinking.
OLIVIA: What happened to Cameljack?
TRICIA: Interjit.
OLIVIA: Whatever.
TRICIA: He was married.
OLIVIA: Are you okay?
TRICIA: I’m fine.
OLIVIA: Because you seem very uptight lately.
TRICIA: Do I?
OLIVIA: You’ve gotten very intense and it’s giving you that line between your eyebrows. Do you have a lover of some sort? I know how you get when you’re not having regular sex.
TRICIA: Olivia.
OLIVIA: You’re not still hanging out at bars until all hours and going home with anyone who asks are you?
TRICIA: No.
OLIVIA: What about the computer?
TRICIA: Shut up.
OLIVIA: Whatever happens you know you’ll always have us.
TRICIA: Right.
FERN enters with a gift. OLIVIA drinks throughout.
FERN: Hi.
OLIVIA: Thanx for coming.
FERN and OLIVIA hug and kiss.
TRICIA: Wine?
FERN: White. Where should I put this?
TRICIA: On the table with the ice bucket. What is it?
FERN: Hammer Horror the Ingrid Pitt years.
OLIVIA: She’ll love them.
TRICIA: Her Ingrid Pitt thing.
OLIVIA: Horror movies brought us together.
TRICIA gives FERN wine. They kiss.
FERN: Ooh place cards.
TRICIA: All the best cotillions have them.
OLIVIA: Where’s the open bottle?
TRICIA: Right here.
FERN: Did I miss anything?
OLIVIA: Tricia was just talking about what a bad actor I was.
TRICIA: I said no such thing.
OLIVIA: Yes you—
FERN: Let it go.
TRICIA: Exactly. There’s no winning.
OLIVIA: How are my boys?
TRICIA: Did you manage to ruin Miles’s budding relationship with the girl you disapproved of?
FERN: No. It’s a bit worrisome.
TRICIA: They all stand up for themselves eventually.
OLIVIA: Not if you have a wonderful mother like I did. She did everything for me until the day I moved out.
TRICIA: At thirty.
NORMA enters.
NORMA: Late. Sorry. Office complication. Oh look wine don’t mind if I do.
FERN: Let me pour.
TRICIA: Happy boiday!
A quick hug and kiss.
OLIVIA: Isn’t this private dining room lovely?
NORMA: Exquisite.
NORMA and OLIVIA kiss quickly.
FERN: Wine.
NORMA and FERN embrace and kiss.
NORMA: Where’s Lorene?
TRICIA: She usually arrives moments after I do.
NORMA: We haven’t heard much from her lately.
FERN: Neither have I.
OLIVIA: Which is not usually a great sign.
NORMA: Congrats on the Bakely nomination by the way.
TRICIA: Thank you.
NORMA: That’ll teach evil corporations to tear down historical landmarks illegally.
FERN: I read about it on the computer this morning.
NORMA: How’s Walt?
FERN: Great. Sends his best.
OLIVIA: Why don’t we all sit in our places now?
TRICIA: Why don’t we wait until Lorene arrives?
OLIVIA: But I’d like to see everyone in their places the way I arranged it.
TRICIA: Relax.
OLIVIA: I personally sampled everything we’re going to have tonight. It will be spectacular. Braised.
FERN: I’m considering a facelift.
OLIVIA: What?
NORMA: You’re the last one who needs a lift.
FERN: Not right this moment. Eventually.
TRICIA: I have to admit I wouldn’t mind having something done to my boobs. They’re a bit.
OLIVIA: Yeah.
TRICIA: Hey.
OLIVIA: And the eye bags.
TRICIA: I earned these eye bags honestly.
FERN: I say nothing before fifty-five.
OLIVIA: I’m perfect just the way I am.
NORMA: That’s right.
FERN: More wine?
OLIVIA: Fill ’er up.
TRICIA: Should I call Lorene?
FERN: Give her a few more minutes.
NORMA: Maybe she’s having sex.
They all laugh.
OLIVIA: That’s so mean.
FERN: Cliff’s an improvement over.
OLIVIA: Umberto.
NORMA: The Argentinean love god.
&
nbsp; OLIVIA: He was so handsome.
TRICIA: He stole most of her money and gave her venereal warts.
FERN: Life’s a barter system. What about that Irish guy?
OLIVIA: The pipefitter who wrote poetry.
NORMA: What was his name?
TRICIA: Liam?
FERN: Laurence?
NORMA: Lance.
TRICIA: Lance right.
FERN: Their son was beautiful.
OLIVIA: Simba.
NORMA: I’m pretty sure they didn’t name the kid Simba.
TRICIA: Shame about the pipefitter poet’s commitment issues.
NORMA: I always liked her first husband. The one she had Diana with.
OLIVIA: What was his name?
TRICIA: Smart guy. Great hair.
