36: The Strangest Family Dinner Ever

The Andreas Kitchen. Clara makes a beef stew. Kitty sits on the floor playing with marbles. Judy comes in sweaty from working out.

Judy: Is that beef I smell?

Clara: Yes. Now go unsmell yourself. Dinner will be ready soon.

Judy: I know. Oh, Clara, did I mention that Alfie is having people over from work this evening for a business meeting?

Clara: You didn’t say anything about that. I don’t have enough plates, Senora.

Judy: Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of everything. It’s just one man from the company, some Bill something or other. I just won’t eat.

Clara: Fine. Because I do want to eat.

Kitty: I don’t. I hate beef stew. Yuck.

Judy: Kitty. Be nice. I won’t tell you again to be nice to the hired help.

Clara feigns a smile.

Judy: But Clara, I’ll make sure there is enough if you go and get the laundry off the line for me. I really need to get this shower in and I just don’t think there will be enough time.

Clara: Ms. Judy, I don’t see how this is going to-

Judy: (rage) Just do what I ask for God’s love, please.

Clara: Yes, Senora.

Judy: Now. Por favor.

Clara: Yes. Yes. Right away.

Clara bows out and Judy goes to work at the counter. She takes out the familiar bag with the bottle and puts some of the stuff into the beef stew pot. She then takes several cans of water to thicken the broth, just when Clara enters.

Clara: Oh mios dio! What did you do? Che haces?

Judy: (pouring the water) I just thickened the broth. Get over it.

Clara: You’ll dilute the flavor.

Judy: Exactly.

Clara: That’s not how it’s supposed to be.

Judy: Yes it is when I had it last. I remember it was too strong. Too beef boullin-y.

Clara: But you aren’t eating any!

Judy: But Bill is. And I hear he’s a beefy man. He will want a lot.

Clara: Probably his flavor intact too.

Judy: Maybe.

Kitty: Bill has no flavor. He’s all business.

Judy: Where did you hear that?

Kitty: Daddy.

Judy: Yes. Yes. I have to take a shower, now don’t bother mommy for the rest of the night.

Clara looks back disapprovingly as Judy exits. A few moments later, Alfred enters with Bill Meriwether and his secretary Cindy. Kitty runs to the door to greet them.

Kitty: Daddy! Daddy!

Alfred: (lifts her feebly) How’s my little-

Bill: Whoa, there.

Alfred: I’m alright. I’m fine. How’s my dear?

Kitty: Good. Could you put me down? You’re hurting me.

Alfred: Of course dear.

Kitty: Who’s the pretty lady?

Cindy: Oh aren’t you cute? I’m Cindy. I’m your Daddy’s secretary.

Kitty: Mommy says Daddy doesn’t have secretarys.

Cindy: (fake laugh) Oh really.

Kitty: Yeah. She says-

Alfred: That’s enough. Enough of that. I’m sure you both are hungry.

Cindy: Sorta.

Bill: Very.

Alfred: Clara, something smells very good. What is it?

Clara: I made your favorite. Beef Stew.

Alfred: It smells delicious.

Bill: It really does, Clara.

Cindy: Yummy. I’m sure.

Clara: Let’s hope. You can all have a seat at the table, if you wish and then I will bring the stew over.

Alfred: Where’s Judy?

Clara: Ms. Judy is in the shower.

Alfred: I see.

Clara: She didn’t know there would be more than two of you.

Alfred: That’s fine.

Clara: Oh, I know it’s fine. She just didn’t know.

Alfred: Okay. Good. You can all have a seat. Anything to drink, gentlemen? And that does include you, Cindy.

Cindy: Oh anything is fine.

Kitty: Does it include me?

Alfred: No, it doesn’t, Kitty pie. Would you mind playing in your room until dinner is served?

Kitty: Okay. Wait. Here’s a marble for you, pretty lady.

Cindy: Oh, thank you.

Alfred: Her name is Cindy, Kitty. Cindy.

Kitty: Hi, Cindy-Kitty-Cindy. My name is just Kitty.

Alfred: Okay. That’s enough. Let’s get down to business.

Throughout Clara brings dishes over the table and begins to serve the beef stew.

Bill: Alfred, are you sure he’s the right man?

Alfred: Bill, I tell you he is. He’s just about the most right man there is.

Bill: But he has been carrying on shadily. I have dealings with. . .

Judy enters drying her hair. She stops abruptly staring at the dinner table. The three have bowls of beef stew and are all business. Papers are laid out. Pens mixed with silverware. Clara takes her place at the other end of the table.

Alfred: I don’t want to hear about him. What we need to figure out is how to make him a successor.

Bill: A successor to what?

Alfred: You know.

Judy: Yes, Alfie, of what?

Alfred: I won’t tell you again to stay out of this, Judy, honey. Please go back to the bedroom.

Judy: I see.

Alfred: Okay. Now, I understand-

Judy: But Clara. . . has made me this bowl of beef stew which I am going to eat. Because I live in this house.

She sits unsteadily. She shoves Clara out of the seat.

Alfred: Take it in the other room.

Clara: Excuse me, Ms. Judy, but Senora, I have prepared this meal and you said that you would not have any for your error in not telling me that there were three people coming to this dinner. Do you not see three people, three, two men, one lady? They are having a meeting.

Silence

Judy: Yes, I see three people, Clara. Good day.

Clara begins to exit.

Judy: I would really hate it if my husband were to interrupt me at this point, but I would just like to tell you Clara that one day, you will THANK me for this. One day you will thank me for this. For some, hardships prove to be successes and others hardships prove to become failures. But I am married to this man and come hell or high water, I will share this house with him. Even if it brings us to the end of our days and in the process makes us feel like crap. Isn’t that what we said, Alfie? Til death do us part.

Long Silence

Judy: Eat up. The lovely stew that Clara made, i.e. that your stew before you is getting cold.

Clara exits. They all grab nervously for their forks and spoons and eat rapidly.

Judy: As you were saying.

Bill: Well, might you name the successor now?

Alfred: I’d rather not. It’s not the right time.

Judy: What’s not the right time?

Alfred: To name the successor to the company of candy that I own dear. That’s enough please. We must talk without you here. You can listen, but please stay silent.

Judy: As you wish. (She slurps her stew)

Cindy: (to Alfred) I wouldn’t come home either. No, I wouldn’t Freddie.

Judy: Listen, you bitch. This is my house. Not yours. Not yours. Do you even know who lived here before you? Before me even.

Bill: Has she been drinking?

Judy: Because I could tell you. She is fucking dead now. Killed herself right before he married me. And now I’ve obviously gone insane. . .because here is my husband with his conniving friends one probably his lover and he is telling me that I won’t get a stitch of this money because he’s going to name a successor. Lovely. So let me tell you, bitch, that it won’t be you, but it’ll be a younger more attractive version of you, because let me tell you something, they are as dispensable as dimes and you are nothing but a penny candy.

And another thing. You can do this under my roof, but you can’t live with the consequences.

Judy exits. Alfred looks rather embarrassed.

Alfred: I’m sorry about that.

Cindy: Does she drink?

Alfred: Clara? Clara?

Bill: Do you have a bell?

Clara enters.

Clara: Yes?

Alfred: The beef stew is there. It hasn’t gotten cold. Please don’t let it go to waste. She didn’t finish it and it is so good. Let’s not let it go to waste.

Clara: Ugh, anything she has a hand in doesn’t taste good. She makes everything badly.

Alfred: I thought it was you who was adding some licorice to everything that we eat.

Clara: I’m not adding licorice to anything. That is her doing. I don’t know how she does it but she adds some special spice or something that she likes to all the meals. She doesn’t ask, she just does.

Bill: But I barely taste the licorice though.

Alfred: Yes, I’ve gotten so used to it, I don’t notice it in my system.

They all laugh.

Cindy: Oh, Freddie, I could get you the best meals ever if you came to live with me.

Alfred: A mansion for an apartment. Cindy, let’s start talking realities. You can move in here.

Cindy: Are you for real? Are you fucking for real, Freddie?

Judy enters.

Judy: What now? What’s going on?

Alfred: We’re going to be having a house guest. Her name is Cindy.

Cindy waves. Bill looks into his hand.

Kitty: (entering) Yeah, pretty lady is going to stay with us.

Judy: Good, because I am going out with our neighbor, Charles.

Alfred: Good.

Clara laughs and Cindy smiles. Bill looks bewildered. Judy stands there flustered putting her coat on. A cell phone goes off.

Cindy: It’s me?

Alfred: I hope it’s that Paula woman calling me back.

Bill: Paula, woman?

Alfred: This Paula woman wanted to get in touch with me. She said it was life or death. I didn’t know her at all. It was pretty weird.

Judy: Probably a secretary.

Alfred: No.

Bill: (realizing it’s his phone) Excuse me. Hello? Oh. I see. I see. Uh huh. No. No. Now is a good time. I’ll be right over. See you soon.

Everyone waits.

Bill: This is pretty fucking weird, but a Paula Pluckston is missing and the force wants me to take on the case. Is this Paula that you were having a life or death matter with happen to be a case worker at the Beverly Judith Berry House?

Alfred: Perhaps.

Bill: She could be dead. Anyway I gotta go. Probably shouldn’t be here in matters of your business anyway.

Alfred: Bill-

Judy: Bill, I’ll escort you out so the family can be alone.

Bill: Thank you. I’m sorry everyone. I’m sorry, Judy.

Judy: Can it, Bill. I know you’re still his friend.

They exit.

Kitty: Is pretty lady staying with us for good?

Alfred: I don’t know about for good.

Cindy: I don’t know about at all, Freddie. This is weird. I didn’t like this.

Alfred: Don’t let her scare you. She’s a lot of talk.

Cindy: Oh, okay. Gee, I feel kinda nauseous.

Clara: Nauseated. You feel nauseated. If you were nauseous you would be the puke or something like that.

Alfred: I don’t feel well either.

Kitty at the window.

Kitty: Mr. Bill is throwing up on the driveway. Judy mommy jumped out of the way. Come look Cindy-Kitty-Cindy.

Cindy: That’s okay. I can look at my own vomit.

Cindy throws up.

Alfred: When is this going to end?

Clara: When this place burns to the ground, Mr. Alfred. That’s when. And I mean your whole company, but uh, until then, this is life.

Alfred: I’m too old to live like this any longer.

Clara: Then you die.

Alfred: I feel like I will soon.

35: Tissues and Tears At the Seams

Wendy’s Bedroom. Wendy is in bed. She is under the covers. A TV with antennas plays something on it. Wendy holds a box of tissues to her breast and one hand near her nose. She sobs. The TV sings of sap. Her bedroom door opens and Paul sneaks in.

Wendy: Paul!

Paul: Wendy, I-

Wendy: Mother’ll kill you if she finds you up here.

Paul: I don’t care. Wendy, I don’t. Honestly, I’m going to marry you and the wedding is next month. We haven’t planned anything. Most of the problem is that you get so spastic everytime you think of the wedding.

Wendy: I can’t help it. At least keep your voice down.

Paul: Fine. But we need to speak. Why are you still in bed?

Wendy: I didn’t go to work today.

Paul: Wendy-

Wendy: What?

Paul: Don’t tell me.

Wendy: Tell you what?

Paul: That you quit your job.

Wendy: Fine, I won’t tell you that.

Paul: WENDY! I can’t believe you. You have got to be kidding me. Yesterday in our session with that Paula woman, you said that you would not quit. But this just proves it. It proves it full force. You are getting worse. . .your- your disorder.

Wendy: It is not a disorder!

Paul: It most certainly is. Look at you. Look at this dark room with it’s heavy curtains. You don’t even get light in here. How can you live?

Wendy: Paul, don’t talk that way to me!

Paul: How can I not? I know I said I wanted to live simply but not in some mole hole!

Wendy: Don’t call my house a mole hole!

Mildred appears at the door.

Mildred: Why, Wendy- Paul. I should have known. Stop it. Stop right now. You of all people should not be in here. Not at this moment. What is wrong with you?

Paul: What are you talking about?

Mildred: What do you mean what am I talking about? You dragging my daughter yesterday into marriage counseling with that quack woman.

Paul: She was not a quack. She said some very nice things.

Wendy: Paul, she said some very horrible things. She said I was reclusive by nature and that I had to go out more. That’s horrible!

Paul: Why is that horrible? That’s pinpointing the problem right in its fucking arse!

Wendy: I don’t have a problem, Paul. This is my life.

Mildred: Wendy’s a shy girl, Paul. She’s not a big sinner like some of those floosy girls.

Wendy: That’s right.

Paul: Mildred, I’m sorry Ms. Pierce I mean, this is not normal. Your daughter can’t even be seen by people. She should be a fucking middle eastern shiek-y woman for all I care. She doesn’t want anybody to gaze on her. Is that normal?

Wendy: I want you and Mother to gaze on me. I just don’t like others.

Paul: See! See! This is what I mean. How can the both of you consider this normal.

Mildred: I can and I will. Paul, this is my household and I am not ready to give it to you. No. Not at all. Not with you behaving like a lunatic from bedlam. Paul. Paul. You cannot come into this house without knocking on the front door and asking to be seen with my daughter, but only then with a chaperone, that is when she is here in her bed, in her night clothes.

Paul: Listen to how you talk. You talk like you are from the 18 fucking 90s.

Mildred: Don’t use words like fuck to me. Do you hear me, young man?

Paul: Wendy. I can’t listen to her anymore. When you feel ready to cut the cord-

Wendy: Cord? What cord?

Paul: I don’t know. The leash, the ambiliacal cord. . .whatever the fuck it is. . . please do and give me a call. I can’t take this any longer.

Mildred: Paul. You walk out of this house, you’re making a big mistake, young man.

Paul: Oh yeah?

Mildred: Don’t ever plan to set foot in it as long as I’m alive.

Wendy: Mother. Paul!

Paul: You heard me Wendy. So get it straight. You have more chances than this. Come with me. We can see that Paula woman again. She’ll make everything work for us.

Wendy: If that Paula woman were the last woman on earth, I wouldn’t even go to see her again. I hate her. I wouldn’t even go to the funeral even if she IS Janet’s friend.

Paul: Well, Good-bye, Wendy.

Wendy: Paul, wait.

Mildred: Don’t ask him to wait. He’s garbage, Wendy. Garbage.

Paul: I can’t wait forever for you to come out of your shell. Good-bye, darling.

Mildred: Don’t kiss her. Aww. Filthy Lips.

Paul kisses her forehead, tears stream down Wendy’s face.

Paul: The door isn’t closed, Wendy. You can still make the right decision. I’ll wait.

Wendy: Paul, please don’t do this. Please. PLEASE!

Paul: Good night.

He exits.

Mildred: I told you he was worthless. Worthless.

Wendy: I know. But I love him. I LOVE HIM.

Mildred: I don’t see why.

Wendy: Leave me with my soaps. Get outta here, Mother. Just get out. Now.

Mildred: Very well. (Mildred exits with one last look back at her daughter with the tissues.)

34: Where have you gone?

The next morning. The offices of the Beverly Judith Berry House. Sue enters. She is a bright younger girl of twenty. She comes in and looks at her desk which is nicely set up and then goes to the other door in the room. The other door is slightly ajar. She peeks in.

Sue: Paula? Paula? Paula?

She goes to her desk drawer and takes out the keys.

Sue: Oh no.

The telephone rings.

Sue: Beverly Judith Berry House, Sue speaking.

Camden: (on phone) Yes. I’m calling to speak with Paula. She’s called me several times, but I was performing surgery around the clock yesterday and I didn’t have time to phone her back.

Sue: Oh. Did you want to leave a message? She isn’t in this morning.

Camden: No. No thank you. This is nothing unusual. Just have her call me if she wants.

Sue: Will do. Bye.

The telephone rings again.

Sue: Beverly Judith Berry House.

Alfred: Hello is a Ms. Paula Pluckston available?

Sue: I’m afraid not. She isn’t in this morning. Can I take a message?

Alfred: I’m rather worried. I don’t know her at all, but she called me yesterday and said it was a matter of life and death.

Sue: Really? Oh my.

Alfred: Yes. So I wanted to get a hold of her. Oh well. Have her call me at the Goode Candy Company when she gets in. My number is: 555-6781.

Sue: I’ve got it, sir.

Alfred: You are efficient.

Sue: I can type almost a hundred words a minute, sir.

Alfred: Nice. I might have a position opening for you down here. (He laughs)

Sue: Oh, you kid.

Alfred: Not really. But thank you. I’ll try back later.

Sue: Bye.

Alfred: Good bye.

Sue sits there blankly. After a moment she takes out a nail file and checks the hallway outside the office. She goes back to the desk and takes out a tabloid and starts reading. After awhile, she gasps at some of the articles. She reads and reads. Then she taps her nails on her desk. She picks up the phone.

Sue: Constance? Hi. Yeah. Sorry to bother you on your days off, but Paula never came in today. No. I don’t know what to do. She usually leaves me work in the morning on my desk, but she hasn’t. In fact, the keys were still in my desk when I came. I don’t even know if she locked up last night. Who would I ask? Oh I’ll call him. Thanks. Have a good rest of the vacation. Bye.

She dials another number.

Sue: Jim? Yes. Oh sorry to bother you. I was wondering if you saw Paula last night. You did? What time? Did you see her leave here? Oh. You were going to come down here? Her light? In her office? Hmmmm. That is not like her to leave the light on all night. Oh you can see it from the house?

Sue gets up and goes through the door into Paula’s office. She clicks off the light in the room. Goes to the window and waves.

Sue: Hi, there. Yeah that’s me. Well you go on and get out of here. I guess I didn’t realize it was on all night. I couldn’t tell when I came in. You should have come checked. Nobody can find her. Oh. Well I guess I should call her at home. I didn’t even try her cell phone yet. Thanks, Jim.

She puts the phone down and starts reading her magazine again. The telephone.

Sue: Beverly Judith Berry House-

Janet: Is Paula there?

Sue: Is this Janet?

Janet: Yes.

Sue: No, I’m afra-

Janet: She’s not?

Sue: No. No she isn’t.

Janet: I’m at her home –with her son. She didn’t come home last night.

Sue: She didn’t?

Janet: No. We were supposed to have dessert here with her. She never came home.

Sue: When was that at?

Janet: Seven pm.

Sue: That was almost 14 hours ago.

Janet: Yes.

Sue: I think we should call the police.

Janet: Yes, I do too. Frederick is crying. He won’t stop crying. Fred, stop it. Please.

Sue: Oh dear. I’m really very worried now.

Janet: Me too.

Sue: I’ll call the police.

Janet: I will too.

Sue: Well you don’t need to, if I do it.

Janet: If we both do it, then they will really think it’s a problem. And they will find her.

Sue: Sure. Sure they will.

Janet: Yeah.

Sue: So you are calling?

Janet: Yeah.

Sue: Let’s call each other when we get off the phone with them.

Janet: Okay.

Sue: Bye. Good luck.

Janet: By-

Sue hangs up. She goes back to reading her magazine. The clock ticks on.