Hey!
Mrs. Ludlow? You ready?
Yep.
- Hey. - Hi.
Can I... Is it gonna hurt?
No, it's fine.
On...
- Is this all your stuff? - Mm-hmm.
- Uh... You sure? - Yeah.
- Nice meeting you. - Yeah. Have a great day.
- I think I... - I got it.
OK.
- Come on, Katy. - What?
I can put a seat belt on.
Sorry...
Sorry.
Stupid.
What?
What am I supposed to say?
You can say anything you want.
Come on.
Where's Philip?
He's asleep. He's exhausted.
What should I do?
Just put it somewhere.
I closed your wireless account.
Thanks.
What do you want to do about all your stuff in the city?
You've got some clothes here in the closet
and I have some more stuff for you in the attic, if you want.
I'm sure that'll do fine.
It's just like old times.
Hey, Daddy.
So, what happens now?
I'm guessing you give a speech of some sort.
What do you want to do, El?
Something else.
I'm open to ideas.
I'm looking for a part-timer on campus.
Was I such a different person when I lived here?
It was, like, a thousand years ago.
You could take some classes.
Could we talk about it later?
What about Conor?
Hey...
- Auntie Em! - Hi.
Missed you.
I missed you.
What'd you guys do today, huh?
Chasing butterflies.
- Mm. - I catched one.
- Really? - "Caught."
I caught one.
You did?
Jonah Greenbaum ate a caterpillar at school.
That sounds pretty gross.
Yeah. Will he have a butterfly in his tummy?
I don't know, honey.
Um, let's, let's give her some time to get settled in, OK, babe?
- Bye, honey. - Bye.
Do you need anything?
Nope. Thank you.
I'm going into town in a bit if you want to join, get out?
Yeah. You yell up at me when you're going?
- You ready? - Yeah.
I feel like I'm seven years old.
- Why? - Being here with you.
You remember that time you and Mom took Katy and me to see Cats for my birthday?
It was a wash for me.
We came in from New Haven.
Yeah, I remember.
I remember the train ride better than anything.
We were all so gussied up.
Katy and me wearing those silly matching dresses,
standing on the seats, looking out at everything,
pointing at this and that.
Everything seemed so limitless.
It was.
It still is.
How many more times do you think I'll remember that moment?
What?
It was such a good moment, but I'll probably only...
...remember it a couple of more times in my life, if that.
Mm, I suppose so.
Whoa, hey. Hey, El.
Hey-
- Hey, Stu. - Wow.
- Hey. All right. - You remember my father?
- Hey. How are you? - Good, thanks.
Good.
You're Conor's chef.
Yeah. Yeah, I'm his chef.
Yeah.
How's the restaurant?
Good. Good. We're doing good.
Everything's all right. Yeah.
El, you have to register.
We-we have to head off.
All right, yeah, I got to get this back to the restaurant, but it's good to...
- Good to see you. - Yeah, you, too.
Hey, if you ever want to get, like, coffee or...
or something... you know, shoot me a text
- or call or something. - OK.
Good seeing you.
- So, Lillian is expecting you. - Mm-hmm.
She and I were colleagues at NYU.
I know. You told me.
You have...
- pencils and notebooks and all that? - Yes, Dad.
I have class, and, um...
then I have patients...
so I guess I'll...
see you at the house later tonight.
OK.
- Hey, El? - Yeah?
Have a good first day.
I Will.
How's the weather down there?
- Balmy. - Do we have an appointment?
I'm Eleanor Rigby.
That must be tough.
I'm here to talk my way into your Identity Theory class.
Oh, you're Julian's kid.
I need some caffeine. You're welcome to walk with me.
OK.
So, was Julian into the Beatles or something?
- Sort of. - What do you mean, sort of?
Um, he met my mom on the street during one of the Beatles' hoax reunions.
There was a rumor they were gonna play a show here before Lennon died,
just like the one they did on the rooftop in London.
My parents stood next to each other waiting for the band to never show.
Nostalgists.
- That, and my dad's surname is Rigby. - You must detest the Beatles.
No, not really.
Do you want something?
Uh...
Double espresso, three Splendas, please.
So, why do you want to be in my class?
Your course sounds interesting.
And... look, you're a colleague of my dad's, so...
Yeah, well, you got to do better than that.
- You want me to make something up? - Well, most people do.
You're just taking classes just to take classes, right?
- Something like that. - Well, let me save you some time.
All the perpetual students, the hedge-fund wives,
and your generation of too many choices,
they usually go to Tim Gunn's class and listen to him talk about Project Runway,
or you could take the art history class on the advent of color photography
just for good cocktail party conversation.
My "generation of too many choices"?
Democracy has its drawbacks.
Here's a double espresso, three Splendas.
Thank you.
You're... teaching classes just to teach classes, right?
Something like that.
I'm having a month.
I'm sorry.
Your father didn't give me much warning or tell me much about you.
And I'm really not one for nepotism.
I just got the call asking if I could squeeze you into a class.
So I don't really know who you are.
It's OK.
Neither do I.
You want to help me?
You making chemise?
Mm-hmm.
With summer vegetables and... and some basil.
Mmm!
You remember when you first had them, in Luberon?
- Mm-mm. - No?
You were four, and you were so fat.
My mother and I would cook a big plate of them,
and left it on the kitchen table,
and, uh, you would eat one and one and one and the other
until the plate was... completely empty.
You went to nursery school that fall, and all these women
gave me those weird looks, and... they were wondering
what I was feeding you with.
- Well, I was a butterball. - I felt completely stupid.
Like I had no idea what I was doing,
the way those women looked at me.
Did you?
Did I what?
Did you know what you were doing?
I think I didn't realize I wouldn't be able to retrieve
all the opportunities I threw away then.
You're not the only one who's done stupid things to herself.
My darling.
Charlie called for you.
Oh. What'd she have to say for herself?
Just wanted to see how you were.
She's trying too hard.
She wants you to come to dinner with her and Aldy
and a bunch of fabulous people this weekend.
What'd you tell her?
You probably weren't up for it.
God, some people don't let you forget 'em.
I should go.
Hey, you want to come with me?
Not particularly.
What are you doing?
Shh.
You like it?
It's kind of nice.
Yeah?
Come on, we should go.
I think it'd be good for us.
Why? What makes you say that?
There are many experts who say it's a good thing to get outside.
Well... and some others say it's not.
You were outside all day today.
Come on, you know what I mean.
I just think...
OK, there was an article...
Oh, my God, you're reading stupid shit online again.
Yeah. But there was something in Psychology Today
that I saw at the library, and you should take a look at it.
I'm managing the periodicals. I'll give you a copy.
Listen, come with me to Charlie's.
That's an order.
Would you stop doing that? It's disgusting.
I thought I'd try and make the place look more pleasant for our guests.
Maybe you could've tried that earlier, before they got here.
Hey, what happened to your chair?
Glad you didn't come last night.
Thank you.
No, I mean, people wouldn't leave.
We had stragglers into the wee hours.
Some idiot got too drunk or high and mistook the chair for a toilet.
- Ew! - He actually lifted the cushion up...
hosed it down and poured, like, a gallon of Nature's Miracle on it.
Probably wasn't enough.
- No. Wasn't. - I would burn it.
No, I inherited it from my grandmother.
It's French Regency or some poncy shit like that.
I'd still burn it.
Maybe we should.
Maybe you should.
What have you been up to, Katy?
Um, what do you mean?
I mean, what have you been up to?
Well... Philip, uh, is going into the second grade.
And...
- he's about to be eight. - Cute.
I'm also studying to take the LSAT.
And I am a
part-time librarian out in Westport, so...
I have that going for me.
No more with the acting?
No. I mean...
life just... kind of put a damper on it.
Whatever happened to dreams?
I think our entire generation is going to grad school,
delaying real life as long as possible.
Every single one of all these friends
is getting an MBA or a JD or a JD MBA.
I lost one of my interns last month,
and the magazine's lost a whole bunch...
Shut the fuck up, Charlie.
I'm sorry.
Um... would you forgive us if we said that we had to leave?
Did I say something wrong?
No, no, no, no, we just have to get the train to Connecticut.
I don't want to be embarrassed
by what I'm allowed to say or not say around you.
- Why would you be? - I don't know. I mean,
I'm embarrassed that I'm embarrassed.
Oh, come here.
Love you.
I love you.
OK. Bye.
You know, ultimately, being oneself means
that the faculty of knowing...
...the faculty of knowing lies within the subject...
...in his head, and...
the subject has such a status
by dint of being enclosed within himself,
separate and distinct from the world and from others.
Now, doesn't common sense tell us the same thing?
Isn't it true that we say, "What's got into you?" to express...
...surprise at and disapproval of
unexpected and bizarre behavior?
And again...
Doesn't common sense tell us
that strange behavior is signaled
by tapping one's forehead with one's forefinger?
"Why the Mind ls in the Head" is the title of one of the lectures
delivered at the 1951, um, symposium.
One of the most authoritative voices in this chorus
is Ken Bergens...
...who asked the question:
Can we compellingly reinscribe what it is to be a person
in a way that moves us away from the individualist premise...
...and toward the relational?
- Hey, Rigby! - What the fuck are you doing?
Come on... come on, I barely got a chance to respond
- before you went AWOL. - What did I ask you, Conor?
- I just need a second to talk. - What the fuck did I ask you?
- Give me a goddamn second to talk. - I gave you plenty of seconds!
Please, do me a favor, leave me the fuck alone!
You know what? Fine!
Conor? Conor?
Fuck!
- Conor, shit. - You know this guy?
He's my husband.
Well, that was exciting.
Yeah, it was awesome.
So, you're, uh...
you're back in school?
I'm taking some classes.
I almost didn't recognize you.
What do you mean?
It's just your hair.
It's really pretty.
Where are you living, El?
None of your business.
Is that what you so desperately needed to talk to me about?
No.
What is it, then?
I was gonna say something good,
something that would have...
solved all our problems and made everything all better,
but you know what, I forgot what it was.
That's too bad.
Isn't it?
I'm gonna go.
No.
All I want...
is a chance to just talk it out.
Then after that, after that you can disappear,
to wherever it is you disappear to.
You ready, sir?
Yeah... yeah, I was born ready.
- Nice and easy. - Yeah...
Watch your step.
I'll see you around.
Bye, Conor.
All right, watch your head coming up.
- Got him? - I got him.
Now, take it easy.
Can I keep stalking you?
Put your arm there for me?
Hey. Hey, you OK?
Yeah. Um...
What happened?
No. My husband...
I don't know what to call him anymore.
Oh, yeah. I have one of those.
So... want to, want to walk with me?
Join me for a drink or something?
No, no, not right now, thank you.
Are you awake?
Auntie Em, are you awake?
No, Philip.
Your eyes are open.
Apparently.
Why do you have your shoes on in bed?
Morning, sunshine.
Mom's making French toast.
All right, I'll be right down.
OK.
Charlie called for you again.
Great.
You came in late last night.
What's with the feast?
We have a special guest star.
Outside.
But it's been hard. There's a barrier...
Good morning.
No fucking way.
El...
- Come on. - What the hell are you doing?
- Come on. Just one second. - Don't touch me, Katy...
- No, no, no, no. - Don't... touch me!
Don't... don't...
- Let go! - No!
Ow!
I will bite you! I swear to God I will bite you!
I will bite you back!
Ow! Ow!
Goddamn it.
You sandbagged me.
He chairs the Psychology Department.
Good for him.
Well, I just thought he'd be a bit more qualified to...
to deal with your circumstance.
What's my circumstance?
He was my grandson.
I lost him, too.
None of us know how to help you.
Well, neither do I.
I'm so glad they delegated the speech to you.
He's not a stranger...
...that some hospital referred you to. He's a colleague of mine.
I don't think one session a week would hurt.
Why can't you talk to me once a week, Dad?
- Why outsource it? - I'm not outsourcing it,
and I don't really think you want to talk to me about it.
I don't need to talk to another therapist.
Eleanor...
Please, stop reminding me that something's wrong.
That's... not my intention.
Then... please let me stop thinking about it.
Tragedy is a foreign country.
We don't know how to talk to the natives.
What are you talking about?
You know, there's this really cool thing called chairs.
Yeah, I, I heard about those.
It's actually not too shabby down here.
You OK?
Sure.
Liar.
Sure.
When's your next class?
It's yours.
Oh.
Do you like hamburgers?
I used to be a vegan.
Mostly 'cause my husband was a vegan.
Not that I don't agree with most of the tenets
of vegan ideology, but...
he was one of those reformed socialists
who seemed sexy before the '60s started to fade.
Does he teach?
He won tenure at University of Oregon,
and I got it here.
He went soft, I stayed hard, that was that.
You have kids?
A son.
I'm not sure why people have kids.
You know, first there's the nine months of agony,
your body hurts, it's hot, it's cold,
you crave pickles, and there's no words to describe
whatever the fuck labor is.
And then this little stranger comes out,
sucking every bit of life you have left in you,
and as soon as you're ready to jump out of a window,
all of a sudden, he smiles.
Jesus Christ, this is good.
And whatever you do, however you do it,
however you imagine your child's life,
or what kind of parent you'd be,
29 years later, he's in some shrink's office
accusing you of some stupid thing that you said or did
that for the life of you, you can't remember saying or doing.
Tell me at your age you're not taking classes out of boredom.
I don't know what the hell I'm doing.
What was before this?
Mm, life in general.
Any kids?
Mm-hmm.
Boy or girl?
Boy.
Good luck.
Thanks.
Who's that man who chased you out of my classroom the other day?
He went soft, I stayed hard, that was that.
Hey.
Guess what?
What?
I got asked out on a date.
I look stupid.
You look beautiful.
Oh, don't be nice.
This... oh, fuck, I don't understand why this asshole walked into my library.
Katy...
Don't "Katy" me. Oh, my God,
Mom and Dad aren't even back yet.
Maybe I should just... pull the plug.
No. He'll be here any second. Calm down.
I'll watch him.
We're just going to pretend to be interested in each other
over cheap Cabernet, and he's gonna, like, ask me
all the same stupid questions that they ask about Philip,
like who the dad is, and then look at me like I'm half a moron
for the choices that I've made.
You know, it was easier when I was an actress,
because I could just fuck my costars,
but this real-life pseudo-adult crap sucks my ass.
Katy, shut up.
I feel fat.
You're not fat.
You were always...
who you were gonna be, I mean, like a woman.
I always... wasn't yet.
Then I was a fraud.
Sometimes I hardly recognize you with that hair.
Mm.
That's gorgeous.
Goddamn it!
Uh, excuse me?
Hey, come in here.
What was that?
This keeps breaking off.
OK, but we don't say that, lovey.
Why?
'Cause it's not a nice thing to say.
Are you sure that you're OK to watch him?
Mom and Dad should be back pretty soon.
He's here.
- Are y... you sure? - Yes, I'm positive.
- Yeah, yeah, yeah. - Change.
So, what do you want to do?
What do you want to do?
Hurry.
I'm coming.
Can I get electrocuted by lightning bugs?
No. They're harmless.
This is pretty good, isn't it?
Yeah, it is.
Hey-
Hmm?
There's only one heart in this body.
Have mercy on me?
Shut up.
Want to go to your place?
Yes, please.
I'll tell you what.
- What? - You make the first move,
and then I'll follow you,
'cause this is...
this is too nice.
Hey, can we drive somewhere aimlessly?
Yeah.
Right now?
Whenever.
Can we do it this weekend?
Yes.
Where do you want to go?
No destination.
Just rent a car.
We can sing along to whatever stupid songs are on the radio.
We'll just drive pointlessly until we feel like stopping.
What would we do then?
Mm, I don't know, eat something, walk somewhere.
Use your imagination.
Well, I... well...
Your other imagination.
- I have a pretty dirty imagination. - Stop!
Come on.
Hey, Rigby?
What?
I love you.
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 fucked.
You have a little to drink tonight?
Yeah.
- What's that? - Shh.
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 bitch.
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.
Mm-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.
- Mm! Bold! - Mm-hmm.
What department?
Anthropology.
Mm. 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.
You want to teach this class?
Not really.
Me neither.
I'm gonna do this.
This song is horrible.
It's not good.
It's not.
I th... I think that bad music turns you on.
Seriously. Oh, oh, car, car, car, car, car.
Do the thing! Do the thing! Do the...
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.
That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.
My God.
No, that's...
No.
- Can I have some? - ♪ Thank God...
- Baby? - Mm-hmm?
As comfortable as this is...
Mm-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.
- Oh! - Come here.
Mmm.
Did you see where my shirt went?
Try the backseat.
Where... where are you going?
Out here.
You coming?
Yeah.
Where are we?
Someplace good.
- Amazing. - I know.
You don't have to tell me.
Shit.
Come on, wake up.
Wake up.
What?
You scared the crap out of me.
How did I do that?
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.
I'm sorry?
You want a sip?
No. Wrong side of the day for me.
You feeling a bit dramatic today?
No, why?
OK.
I played second violin on this.
Boston Symphony. ltzhak Perlman.
I haven't forgotten.
No, I was just reminding myself.
Are you that unhappy?
Mm, I don't believe in unhappy.
I'm just having a quiet crisis, like you're having yours.
Katy is having hers. Your father having his.
- Dad's having a crisis? - Yes.
One in a series.
Why?
No, I don't want to talk about this now.
Let's keep that between him and me.
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.
Eat bread,
make eyes at strangers.
Yeah, I could.
So why are you still here?
I don't know.
No, but then he takes it out, and he run, he goes out...
We're not open quite yet.
Hey, Alexis.
Holy shit.
Is he around?
Uh, he's in the kitchen having a talk with Stuart.
OK.
- How you been? - Good.
- How have you been? - Good, good.
- How's the painting coming? - Great.
I'm just finishing up some stuff that I do at home.
Sorry... everybody.
Holy Shatner.
Good to see you, too, Stuart.
Well, this has been nice,
reconnecting and, uh... Seems like old times.
I'm gonna go back to the, uh, kitchen.
Cool, I'll join you.
- Sorry. - Sorry.
Shirley Temple?
Please.
What do I owe you?
Your money's no good here. You know that.
So business is good?
Yeah.
It's great.
We're closing.
- I'm sorry. - Yeah.
Yeah, me, too.
So, what's next?
Well, I was thinking of developing some interests
that people might actually take an interest in.
You gonna work for your dad?
I don't know.
You know, before I met you, I had no clue who I was.
And then when I was with you...
...I thought I had it all figured out, but now...
Now I'm just back to wondering again.
Well, when you figure it out, tell me how.
OK.
- Let's get out of here. - Huh?
Let's go.
What? Right now?
Come on. Don't believe in wasting time.
OK.
Uh...
Hey, so, where are we going exactly?
To rent a car.
Fucker!
We got the car with retarded wipers.
Well, there's no rush.
What are we doing here, El?
You tell me.
You stalked me.
You've said we needed to talk,
and you showed up at my parents' house.
An hour ago, you waltzed into my bar and suggested we drive aimlessly
into the perfect fucking storm here.
So...
It's kind of funny.
Yeah.
Yeah, it's fucking hilarious.
You know, there was a brief moment I thought we actually pieced together
a pretty decent life.
I have to move everything out of the apartment next week.
Do you want me to keep anything for you?
Where are you moving to?
I can move in with my dad for a while,
until I get things figured out.
Oh.
You're sopping wet.
You noticed that?
El...
...wait, wait, wait.
Please, please, wait.
You slept with someone else.
You told me to.
You left.
El, you left.
Hey, now don't...
El?
It doesn't matter.
You suck at lying, El. You're supposed to say,
"How the fuck could you do this to me, Conor?"
Come on, you're supposed to say, "That's bullshit."
You're supposed to say, "You're a selfish,
- hopeless, disgusting person, Conor." - No, no, no, no.
- We're past that. - No, we're not!
And you just said it for me.
Let's go back to the city.
This is fine. I'll get out here.
- Ma'am? - Yes?
You're a dick.
And you look like ass.
Thank you.
Where were you last night?
Do you want to take a load off?
I come here on breaks.
One of the librarians advocates a whole nap philosophy.
Nap philosophy?
Yeah, naps throughout the day, like, help with productivity and stuff.
Mm.
If you...
want to read this.
What?
I was hoping you could read my mind.
Wouldn't that be nice?
You want to do something stupid this weekend?
Yeah. I'm the queen of doing something stupid.
What are you thinking?
Get bent, take a train into the city, save the world.
When did you become an idealist?
A couple seconds ago.
I have a date with the dentist this weekend.
It's OK. He can be our third wheel.
All right.
I should get back to work.
I'll come wake you up in a little bit.
- Hey! - Hi!
- Would you like drinks? - Yeah.
Yeah, I'll have a drink.
- Should we get, like... - A shot?
Three shots?
Tequila.
A round of tequila.
I feel old!
- What? - I feel...
I feel old!
Me, too!
Cheers.
Thanks!
What's your name?
I'm good, thanks.
Oh, wait.
Wait...
No, wait, wait, wait.
- What? What? - Wait.
What is it?
Did I hurt you?
No, no.
What is it?
You're a stranger.
So are you.
You ever have that moment where you...
know you're doing something stupid, but you do it anyway?
Yeah, every day.
What?
Come on.
- No. - Come on.
Stay there.
I'm gonna go.
No, don't go.
- Don't. - Oh, Jesus.
Just stay for a minute.
Really?
Sorry.
Where to?
Uh...
Just make a loop around the city.
Got a destination?
Eventually.
"All the lonely people, where do they all come from?"
Hmm?
That's the Beatles song you were named after.
Ah. Three Splendas.
Wow, full service.
Want me to come down there or you want to join me in here?
I think I'm gonna leave your class.
You're breaking up with me.
So this is what heartbreak feels like.
You never had your heart broken?
Only read about it in books.
Liar.
Sure.
You know, you don't have to tell me this. You could've just not shown up.
I just got to get out of here.
"Here"?
The tri-state area.
Oh.
You know, they say that if you walk away from things,
then you'll just keep walking away
and start a whole history of walk-aways.
Did that sound as lame as I thought it did?
No.
Good, 'cause I don't have a fucking clue as to how life should be lived.
Well, could you refer me to someone who does, please?
Yeah.
I had a dog, Miles.
I got him from a pound.
He did it pretty well.
Lived every day like he won the lottery.
Where's Miles when we need him?
Somewhere in Pennsylvania.
Took him on a road trip,
trying to be all Travels with Charley.
As soon as we hit the open countryside,
he starts jumping up and down like he picked up a scent
or found something he'd always been looking for.
Let him out.
He hightails it, chasing the sun to nowhere.
He ran away?
Mm-hmm.
I imagine he's happy wherever he wound up.
Hooked up with some Amish people.
Lives on a dairy farm.
It's possible.
I have a colleague at NYU.
From my days of working with your dad there.
Teaches anthropology at the American University in Paris,
does some work at the Musee de Quai Branly.
I can make a phone call.
Send him that dissertation you started on.
Want half a bagel?
No, I'm good, I'm good.
You getting enough to eat?
You're starting to sound maternal.
Oh, that would be a first.
When's the last time you got to talk to your son?
Some holiday too long ago.
Is it sad that I don't remember?
Probably.
I should call, shouldn't I?
- Yeah. - Yeah.
Now you sound maternal.
Hello?
Hey-
Do I seem like a different person to you?
You look the same to me.
I'm sorry.
For what?
For disappearing.
We'll never get to where we were.
Where was that?
Someplace good.
Yeah.
Tell me what you're thinking.
I forgot what he looked like.
Sometimes l... I'll get a glimpse of his eyes or...
...the way he'd smile at me from his crib.
But then he'll vanish.
I can't picture his face.
I can't picture his face anymore.
He was pale.
He frowned a lot.
He had your eyes, he had your nose,
he had your... your lips,
he had your cheeks.
El, he was all you.
He was the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I wasn't prepared for what this feels like.
I know. Neither was I.
I love you.
I know.
How's it coming?
It's coming.
There's a great cafe... called Le Cafe
at the Rue Tiquetonne
that a lot of artsy fartsies go to.
Your mother and I used to go there when we visited her parents.
I met Jean Marie Le Clezio there once, before he won his Nobel.
Cool.
And you should get some of those big French macaroons
at Laduree in Saint-Germain.
Call me when you do.
And I will live vicariously through you.
I will. Thanks.
I lost you in the ocean once.
What?
I lost you in the ocean once.
We had rented a house at Ditch Plains Beach on Montauk,
when you could afford Montauk.
You were about two.
Your mother was pregnant with Katy,
and I took you down...
swimming...
one afternoon.
Not a lot of people down there.
I...
I waded out, holding you...
...thinking, at one point, "This might not be the best idea."
But you were game.
Or I imagined that you were game
because you never, ever seemed scared.
Of anything.
The Atlantic is moody,
and a big set of waves snuck in.
We... made it under the first one.
You were clinging to my neck.
But we got caught in front of the second.
And I came up without you.
I have never felt anything like that.
The throes of that stupid couple seconds...
treading the white water.
And then, miraculously, I...
...felt you at my feet.
I never told your mother.
I never told anyone.
That was the worst and the best moment of my life.
OK.
Is this ready?
Yeah.
- I'll be downstairs in a bit. - OK.
What have you got?
Chardonnay.
- It's good, huh? - Mm-hmm.
You know that I'm full of shit, right?
Depends on the day.
But you know that I love you, hmm?
Say good-bye to Aunt Em, OK?
OK.
Good-bye, chickadee. You make sure that they behave, OK?
- OK. - OK, kiss.
What time is it in France?
Um, it is past your bedtime.
Why?
Don't be a stranger.
I won't.
I don't want to go to bed. It's still light out.
You don't have to go to bed, sweetie.
Be good, OK? I'll be back.
When is Auntie Em coming back?
She'll be back next summer.
Hey-
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