TODD: What of?
GRACE: Your sister’s going to die.
TODD: No she’s not.
GRACE (Weeping): I know she is! They’re going to cut her open and she’s going to die! God! Don’t let her die!
TODD: Can I have her records?
GRACE: God is punishing me.
TODD: There is no God.
GRACE: There is and he punishes bad people—I dreamed I held a pillow over her face.
TODD: I dreamed I was you.
GRACE: If I was a good mother, I would’ve stopped her! I turn my back for a minute.
TODD: Please cheer up.
GRACE: You’re so good. I can’t cry—don’t want to cry in front of your father. He needs me to be strong. He’s frightened. He loves Emma. He prefers her to you, you know.
TODD: I know.
GRACE: I prefer you to me though.
TODD: What?
GRACE: I mean you to her. What did I say?
TODD: Me to you.
GRACE: Hold me.
TODD: How?
GRACE: Like this. (She embraces him) I don’t want Emma to die! I’ll try to love her!
TODD: Sssshhh. Sssshhh.
GRACE: Play with my hair—I want to start over! I want her to be a baby again! I want to try again! I want another baby! I want to be a baby!
TODD: Mommy.
GRACE (Rising): Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, it’s late. I shouldn’t burden you.
TODD: It’s all right.
GRACE: I’m sorry. I just wanted to say good luck tomorrow.
TODD: Thanks.
GRACE (Cheery): Sleep tight. (She exits)
TODD: And I did.
(The lights return to normal. Todd exits onto the terrace. As he does, Tommy enters carrying a feather duster and wearing a maid’s uniform: black dress and apron. Emma descends the stairs.)
EMMA: Tommy, what are you doing?
TOMMY: Dusting and waxing.
EMMA: Can’t it wait?
TOMMY: This wood is parched.
EMMA: You have all day.
TOMMY (Paying no attention, happily cleaning): And a hectic schedule! I have to dust and polish, fetch your father’s pinstripe from the cleaners, dip the silver and select a menu for dinner.
EMMA: I’m having an asthma attack.
TOMMY: And to tell you the truth, I’m out of ideas.
EMMA: I’m running out of oxygen.
TOMMY: Do you prefer Veal Diana to venison crêpes?
EMMA: I’m suffocating.
TOMMY: Of course everyone loves poultry.
EMMA: The room is spinning.
TOMMY: Except some people.
EMMA: I’m going to faint.
TOMMY: I could try a soufflé.
EMMA: Everything is going black.
TOMMY: I know! Fondue!
EMMA: I’m not happy!!
TOMMY: Don’t you like fondue?
EMMA: I don’t think I’ve ever had it—
TOMMY: Oh, you’ll like it. It’s fun. You take bread and very long forks and a pot of boiling cheese—
EMMA: You’ve been here three weeks and everything’s falling apart!
TOMMY (Insulted): This place’s never been so tidy!
EMMA (Sadly): How can you wear that?
TOMMY: Am I showing too much leg?
EMMA: It’s grotesque!
TOMMY: I look good in black.
EMMA: Something’s very wrong here.
TOMMY: I realize some men would find this getup degrading and an insult to their masculinity, but I have to admit I find it liberating . . . and oddly titilating.
EMMA: I thought you’d rescue me. I never even see you.
TOMMY: You’re seeing me now.
EMMA: You used to talk to me. You used to want me. You used to kiss me.
TOMMY: I don’t have time.
EMMA: How long does it take?
TOMMY: I have cheddar to melt.
EMMA: You used to tell me I was beautiful. Don’t you think I’m beautiful?
TOMMY (Cleaning): Yeah, yeah, you’re beautiful. Your hair’s like candy, your eyes like diamonds.
EMMA (Brightly): Let’s discuss the wedding!
TOMMY: You talk. I’ll dust.
EMMA: Do you hate me? Is that it?
TOMMY: I love you.
EMMA: I don’t think so! You never even look at me! And aren’t we ever going to have sex!?
TOMMY: Someone will hear you.
EMMA: I don’t care! I don’t want to die a virgin!
TOMMY: Hans Christian Anderson died a virgin.
EMMA: How do you know that?
TOMMY: I read it.
EMMA: Where?
TOMMY: In a book. And he brought happiness to millions of children all over the world.
EMMA: I don’t want to bring happiness to millions of children all over the world!
TOMMY: Don’t you like children?
EMMA: I want to experience sex! I’d like to have an orgasm. Is that so hard to understand.
TOMMY: It’s a little self-centered.
EMMA: I’m a woman! I have breasts. I have a vagina. I want to use them.
TOMMY (Dusting): I see.
EMMA: Make love to me! Kiss me and kiss me in private places and make me forget that my skin is too small and every pore shrieks! Take me by force right here and now!
TOMMY: You’re asking an awful lot.
EMMA: You say you love me. You know I love you—
TOMMY: You criticize me continually. You hate my outfit. How do you think that makes me feel? How do you expect me to have a healthy self-image if I don’t feel good about the way I look?
EMMA: It’s not bad really.
TOMMY: You don’t mean that.
EMMA: Yes. I do. I like it. I’d like to borrow it.
TOMMY: You hate my cooking.
EMMA: That’s not so. I loved last night’s banana nut loaf.
TOMMY: You ate your eggs through a straw!
EMMA: Well they were raw.
TOMMY: They were soft.
EMMA: They were liquid—
(Todd enters from the terrace, carrying two dinosaur skeleton legs.)
TODD: Look what I found!
EMMA and TOMMY: More bones.
(Todd sits and tries to piece the legs together with the other bones.)
TODD: Oh, Tommy, I meant to tell you how much I enjoyed breakfast—
EMMA: I HATE YOU. I HATE EVERYONE! (She exits)
TOMMY: I don’t know what’s gotten into her lately.
(Todd, distracted, pulls a book out from under the sofa and refers to it as he works with the bones.)
TODD: She was always high-strung.
TOMMY: We’re growing apart.
TODD: It happens to everyone.
TOMMY: It’s happened to you?
TODD: Of course.
TOMMY: What did you do?
TODD: Watch.
TOMMY: That’s all?
TODD: You can’t fight the inevitable.
TOMMY: But I care about Emma! I love her! If anyone harmed her I’d kill them. We belong together.
TODD: And sex?
TOMMY (Casual): No thank you, I’ve just eaten.
TODD: I mean are you sexually compatible?
TOMMY: Well . . . I don’t know.
TODD: What do you mean?
TOMMY: We haven’t actually had “sex.”
TODD: Are you Mormon?
TOMMY: No.
TODD: Do you find her attractive?
TOMMY: She has beautiful eyes.
TODD: So do you.
TOMMY: Beautiful legs.
TODD: So do you.
TOMMY: Beautiful lips.
TODD: So do you.
TOMMY: Beautiful breasts!
TODD: So do— (Pause) Then what is it?
TOMMY:
