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things left unsaid…

six short stories

Production notes for Things Left Unsaid…

I like to think of these 10-minute plays as Legos: all six can stand alone, but can also be put together in various combinations.

Evolution of an Elegy is made up of The Choice is Hers; Things Left Unsaid…; The Scarf and Reading Between the Lines.

Rites of Passage is made up of The Phone Call; The Scarf and Fifty and Counting.

THINGS LEFT UNSAID is made of up all six, described below, with character breakdowns.

The Choice is Hers:

A new, well, newly renewed, relationship; an unplanned pregnancy: Cali has a choice to make.

Thom: a man in his late 20s-early 30s

Cali: a woman the same age

Things Left Unsaid:

Abigail’s and Cali’s lives have taken very different directions since they made their debut in the Holly Cotillion. Do they still have enough in common to hold their friendship together?

Abigail: a woman in her late 20s-early 30s

Cali: a woman the same age

The Phone Call:

A pro-life woman receives a fundraising call for her husband from a pro-choice organization. When he returns, she confronts not only him, but herself, and ultimately, their marriage.

Wife: a 60ish woman

Husband: a man the same age

The Scarf:

The unexpected arrival of a Fed-Ex package containing a beautiful scarf forever changes the relationship between Mother and her grown daughter, Honey.

Mother: a 50ish woman

Honey: a 30ish woman

Fifty and Counting:

Circumstances find a long-divorced couple spending their fiftieth wedding anniversary together.

Ex-Husband: a 70ish man
Ex-Wife: a woman the same age

Reading Between the Lines:

Two women: One is writing a letter to an advice columnist; the other reads between the lines.

Happy Empty Nester: a 60ish woman

Adult Adopted Child: a 40ish woman

STORY ONE:

THE CHOICE IS HERS

The place is a large hotel room: queen-size bed; bedside table with a telephone; table and two chairs; a dresser and desk. A man’s clothes are draped over one of the chairs. The lights come up on a man in his late-20s-early-30s, wearing a t-shirt, sleeping alone in the bed. He wakes up with a start. Sitting up, he looks around, then lets out a resigned sigh and lies down. After a moment, he starts to get up when a toilet flushes OS. He lies back in bed and woman the same age, zaftig, artistically dressed with an overflowing briefcase into enters stage left. She sets the bag on the table, then kisses the man.

CALI

You’re awake. Good morning. Did you sleep well?

THOM

I did. And you?

CALI

Fine… What’s wrong?

THOM

Nothing’s wrong.

CALI

Yes there is… You thought I left… That’s it, isn’t it? You thought I just snuck out like some thief in the night.

THOM

I woke up and you were gone and your stuff was gone and I thought…

CALI

To the bathroom, Thom. I went to the bathroom.

THOM

I got scared.

CALI

Well, I’m scared too.

THOM

Of what? You’re not the one who got dumped.

CALI

Not by you… Don’t you think I was terrified that you’d wake up this morning and change your mind, which is what usually happens to me. Or that down the line, you’ll find someone who’s younger, or prettier… or thinner… Thom, this isn’t going to work if we’re both scared all the time.

THOM

We could go back to bed, and I promise I won’t be scared anymore.

CALI

I’ve got a show in couple months. My gallery’s breathing down my neck. I’ve got to get to the studio.

THOM

Come on.

CALI

Your client’s not paying you to have a good time with me. Don’t you have to take a deposition, or something?

THOM

Yes, ma’am.

Cali kisses Thom, picks up her bag, then exits right. Thom begins getting dressed as the lights fade.

SCENE 2

The same setting, several weeks later. Thom enters stage left, putting on his jacket as he walks; his briefcase is on the table, along with a second bag. OS there are sounds of retching.

THOM

Cali, are you all right in there?

There is water running OS, then the sound of a faucet closing. Cali enters stage left.

CALI

Yeah. I don’t know where I picked up this stomach bug.

THOM

I’ve got to go. Feel better.

CALI

I will.

Thom kisses her cheek and exits stage right, without his briefcase. When she is sure that he’s gone, she pulls a home pregnancy test out of her bag and sits on the bed. A second later, Thom enters stage right.

THOM

Forgot my briefcase.

He sees the pregnancy test.

THOM

So exactly when were you going to tell me?

CALI

There’s nothing to tell, yet. It could just be a stomach bug.

THOM

Well, Diane started out with the heaves… I thought we had been pretty careful.

CALI

There was that one morning in the shower.

THOM

Oh yeah, I forgot about that… Cali, if I hadn’t come back, would you have told me? Or just taken care of it without saying any thing?

CALI

Joe, I’ve never been pregnant before. If I am, I’m going to need some time to get used to the idea before I -- we -- decide anything.

THOM

I forgot. Underneath it all, you’re still a nice Catholic girl, aren’t you?

CALI

Would I be here if I were?

THOM

Touché.

CALI

You said Diane started with the heaves. I thought you didn’t –

THOM

Yeah. It’s been hard –

CALI

I didn't know –

THOM

Yeah… What about you? I expected you to have a houseful of kids.

CALI

I probably would have if I had found a husband. You know, when things didn’t work out with Eliot.. Although I suppose if I had really been driven to have children, I would have found a way, husband or not. But when my friends started having kids and I got a good look at what was really involved… Jesus, there’s no time for yourself -- maybe five minutes here or there in the bathroom… And the sleep deprivation…

THOM

They say you get used to it.

CALI

That’s what everyone told me. But I don’t know… I mean, what are you supposed to do if you don’t get used to it? Anyway, I think everything worked out the way it was supposed to.

Thom lays his hands on Cali’s belly and kisses it.

THOM

I expect you’re right. Listen, I’m late for a deposition.

Thom picks up his briefcase; just before he exits, he turns around.

CALI

What?

THOM

Nothing. I’ll see you later. Feel better.

Thom exits stage right. Cali takes the pregnancy test and exits stage left.

SCENE 3

Same setting, a few minutes later. The stage is bare. After a moment, a bell rings OS; after another moment, Cali enters stage left carrying the pregnancy test and the package it came in, which she stuffs in the bottom of her bag. She removes a piece of paper from her date book and sits on the bed. She places her hands on her belly.

CALI

I know you would be beautiful.

She dials a number on the bedside phone.

CALI

Hello. Yes, I’d like to make an appointment… To terminate a pregnancy… Yes, I just did a home pregnancy test… Yeah, it was positive… My last period? That’s a good question. It’s been a while, but I couldn’t be more than, hang on a second.

Cali carries the phone to the table and pulls her date book out of her bag, then sits down.

CALI

Hi, I’m back… Okay, let me see -- ten weeks -- more likely eight… Yes… I understand, but… Look, my periods have always been irregular… I am aware that it’s a more complicated procedure after twelve weeks… Believe me, I cannot tell you how sure I am that… If you’ll let me finish a sentence, I’ll explain… I couldn’t be more than ten weeks at the outside… Well, if you absolutely must know, the first time I had intercourse since long before my last period was ten weeks ago… Thank you, next Friday will be fine… My name is…

The lights fade.

SCENE 4

The same setting, early in the evening of the same day. The lights come up on Cali at the desk, sketching idly and drinking a cup of tea. Thom enters.

THOM(OS)

You’re here! I’ve been trying you at your studio for hours.

CALI

How was your deposition?

THOM

Forget about the deposition. What about –

CALI

You can relax. It was a false alarm. The test was negative.

THOM

Oh.

CALI

You sound disappointed.

THOM

Maybe, a little. I know it would have been crazy, but… You?

CALI

I don’t know. Relieved… Maybe a little sad.

THOM

Well, I suppose we should be grateful that the decision was made for us. I would have had a really hard time…

CALI

It’s funny. Elliott never wanted children. He used to talk about getting a vasectomy.

THOM

Really, We’ve been friends for years, I never heard him say anything about that. Kind of extreme, don’t you think? You were both still in your twenties.

CALI

I always thought it was extreme. We used to fight about it a lot… I really thought I wanted kids then. Once I asked him what he would do if I found out I was pregnant, just to see his reaction.

THOM

(laughing)

And what did he say?

CALI

Well, he really didn’t say anything. He just got this funny little smile that made me think he probably would have been okay with it once he got used to the idea. Do you think he and what’s-her-name planned to have kids, or did it just happen?

THOM

No, actually they had a hard time getting pregnant the first time.

CALI

Is he a good father?

THOM

Yeah, he is.

CALI

Funny how things work out… Listen, I thought I’d go visit my sister next week.

THOM

It’s a three-day weekend. I thought we could get out of this hotel for a couple of days.

CALI

Well, I’ve never heard my nephew play his trumpet in the school band, and next week is the last concert before he graduates.

THOM

It’s going to seem strange, not waking up next to you.

CALI

It’s only for a few days. I’ll be back before you have a chance to miss me.

THOM

I’ve gotten used to having you around.

CALI

And I’ve gotten used to being around.

THOM

Let’s go get some dinner.

Cali and Thom begin walking stage right.

THOM

I hope you get rid of that stomach bug before you leave.

CALI

So do I.

Cali and Thom exit. The lights fade.

SCENE 5

The lights come up half-way. Cali enters stage left with a suitcase. She puts a last few things, including a particularly beautiful scarf, into her briefcase, and exits stage right. The lights come down.

STORY TWO:

THINGS LEFT UNSAID…

The setting is a living room, sparsely furnished with a sofa, chair and several half-unpacked boxes. OS a woman’s voice calls:

WOMAN

Abigail?

A woman, CALI, in her late-20s-early-30s enters. She’s wearing the scarf from the previous scene, and carries a small shopping bag.

CALI

Abigail, are you here?

ABIGAIL (OS)

Coming.

ABIGAIL enters. The same age as Cali, Abigail is visibly pregnant and dressed for housework. She seems a bit rattled by Cali’s arrival

CALI

I knocked. The door was open.

ABIGAIL

You’re early. I wasn’t expecting you until two. Pretty. (indicating the scarf.)

CALI

Isn’t it? My meeting was over early… I guess I should have called. Do you want me to come back?

ABIGAIL

No… It’s okay. Oh look at me. I’m a mess. I was upstairs painting the nursery. I thought I had more time… Here, sit down. I wanted the house to be settled before anyone saw it.

Cali sits down. Abigail continues to fuss.

CALI

Don’t be silly. You just moved in. It’s going to be nice.

Cali pulls a pack of cigarettes from her bag and looks around.

CALI

You must have unpacked the ashtrays by now.

ABIGAIL

Please don’t! I quit when I found out I was pregnant… The smell… And we didn’t just move in. It’s been three weeks. It is going to be beautiful when I’m done. It’s just taking so long. I had no idea how much energy it took just to be pregnant.

CALI

Well, I brought chocolate.

Cali hands Abigail the bag. Abigail hands it back.

ABIGAIL

Thanks, but no. Look at me! I can’t gain any more weight.

CALI

Oh course you’re going to gain more weight. When are you due?

ABIGAIL

Not for three months.

CALI

So you get to eat what you want. That’s the best part of being pregnant. Come on, you love chocolate.

ABIGAIL

Okay, you win!

Abigail sits down Cali opens the chocolates and hands Abigail a piece and takes a piece for herself.

ABIGAIL

Oh, this one is my favorite. Of course, then after the baby comes I’ll look like a beached whale.

CALI

Do you remember the afternoon before the Holly Ball?

ABIGAIL

Oh my God yes. We must have eaten a pound of these. It’s a miracle we got into those gowns. Well, we’ll never get into those gowns again. Although, you look as though you’ve lost weight since I saw you at the gallery opening. I remember your face was very full – pudgy even.

CALI

My eating habits go to hell when I’m painting. I always gain weight

ABIGAIL

How long ago was that?

CALI

Almost a year.

ABIGAIL

That long? What have you been doing? And where have you been?

CALI

Well, when the show was over I felt as though I had given birth.

ABIGAIL

It’s hardly the same thing -

CALI

I know that. But making all those paintings took their toll – physically and emotionally. Sometimes it felt as though I was giving birth.

ABIGAIL

How would know what it feels like? You’ve never been pregnant.

CALI

It was a metaphor. Anyway, the show sold well – really well. So I bought a small place on the Cape and just spent some time by myself.

ABIGAIL

You’ve been on the Cape this whole time and you didn’t –

CALI

I know. I know… It’s just… After the show I just needed to be by myself for a while. The time went by so fast.

ABIGAIL

I didn’t know where to send the wedding invitation.

CALI

I know. I’m sorry about missing the wedding. Can I see the pictures?

ABIGAIL

Oh, God. I don’t even know where the wedding album is.

Abigail starts looking through the boxes.

ABIGAIL

No, not in this one.

CALI

That’s okay. I just… Look, I am sorry I wasn’t there. Let’s finish these chocolates.

ABAIGAIL

So, are you seeing anyone?

CALI

No, not really.

ABIGAIL

Not really?

CALI

No Abigail, I’m not seeing anyone.

ABIGAIL

At the show I thought I heard you mention –

CALI

Yeah… That didn’t work out.

ABIGAIL

What happened?

CALI

Nothing… He went back to his wife.

ABIGAIL

Oh Cali! He was married?

CALI

Separated.

ABIGAIL

And you thought he would leave his wife for you? I mean he was someone’s husband.

CALI

And he still is – just not mine. Besides, did ever occur to you that maybe I don’t want a husband?

ABIGAIL

Well, that’s just silly. Why would you not want to get married?

CALI

I just don’t think I’m temperamentally suited for marriage. Not everyone is, you know. Why is that so hard to understand?

Silence.

ABIGAIL

So, will you have to be going soon?

CALI

No, I’ve got time. Why, do you have something to do?

ABIGAIL

No, I just thought it was time for your soap opera.

CALI

No.

ABIGAIL

Oh, some good news. Thank God you finally came to your senses and stopped wasting your time with that nonsense.

CALI

No, I have this machine that tapes the show.

ABIGAIL

What, I never heard –

CALI

I know. It’s a prototype. You attach it to the television and set the time, then it tapes the show. And you can watch whenever you want to. It’s great.

ABIGAIL

How much does it cost?

CALI

I have no idea. Like I said, it’s a prototype. But, I don’t think it’s going to be cheap.

ABIGAIL

So where –

CALI

Well, this who woman bought one of my paintings, we start talking about soaps, and she told me that her husband is one the engineers working on this project in Japan. He pulled some strings and got me a sample to test.

ABIGAIL

So when will it be available?

CALI

I don’t know. There are still some kinks for the engineers to work out, so I think it’s going to be awhile, but I could ask him –

ABIGAIL

Oh no, not for me! I have a house to get in order. I’m not going to have time for television.

CALI

Well, you asked.

ABIGAIL

We have a mortgage, and a baby coming. I’m married to a struggling writer, and I’m not working. We won‘t have money to waste -

CALI

Well, I don’t think it’s a –

ABIGAIL

Of course, I’m just a housewife and mother-to-be. So I suppose I’m the one who’s should to be watching soap operas.

CALI

Why do you do that?

ABIGAIL

Do what?

CALI

Demean yourself like that – just a housewife, just a mother?

ABIGAIL

I don’t think it’s demeaning to be a housewife and mother.

CALI

I know, that was my point.

ABIGAIL

I just meant that compared –

CALI

Compared to what?

ABIGAIL

Nothing –

CALI

Compared to what? To whom?

ABIGAIL

No one, nothing important. It’s just… my emotions can get a little crazy. It’s the hormones… Anyway, if you leave now, you won’t get stuck in rush hour traffic.

Cali pulls a piece of paper and pen from her bag.

CALI

Yeah, you’re right… Look, I know you’re going to be really busy once the baby comes. And I know I was the one who’s been out of touch. So here’s my address and phone number. Let’s try to stay in touch. I know long distance is expensive, but we can write. And you can send me pictures of the baby. And when the baby’s old enough, you can bring him, or her, down to the Cape. Children love the water.

ABIGAIL

I will.

CALI

And let me know the minute you become a mother.

ABIGAIL

I will. Have a safe drive back.

CALI

I will. Bye.

Cali exits. Abigail checks her watch, picks up the chocolate box then exits. After a moment, an organ chord precedes a MALE VOICE announcing (OS).

MALE ANNOUNCER

And now, the second half of As the World Turns.

STORY THREE:

THE PHONE CALL

The setting is an attic. The stage is set with two chairs and several storage boxes. An old-fashioned ball gown hangs among the clothing on a rack. A middle-aged woman, WIFE, sits silently on one of the chairs. A man, the same age, HUSBAND, enters.

HUSBAND

Here you are. What are you doing up here?

WIFE

How was your day?

He picks up the ball gown.

HUSBAND

Good. I think I finally finished revising the third chapter.

WIFE

That should make your editor happy.

HUSBAND

I hope so. This one’s been a bear. What are you doing up here all by yourself?

WIFE

You’re not the only one who needs solitude… I was just looking through some old stuff.

He picks up the dress.

HUSBAND

What’s this?

WIFE

Oh, I wore that when I made my debut.

HUSBAND

Oh yes, I remember, the Holly Cotillion.

WIFE

Yes –

HUSBAND

How did your mother put it? Where four generations –

WIFE

Where four generations of Edwards women were introduced into proper society.

HUSBAND

But not the fifth.

WIFE

No, not our daughter.

HUSBAND

Which never bothered you. That always surprised me.

WIFE

Well, I was far less invested in the Cotillion than Mother… Oh yes, I almost forgot. I, uh, I had an interesting phone call this morning.

HUSBAND

Who from?

WIFE

Actually, it was for you. An organization called Kāli Ma,

HUSBAND

Oh –

WIFE

I’d never heard of them. So I looked it up on the Internet. I, what’s it called?

HUSBAND

Googled.

WIFE

Yes, that’s it. It seems that Kāli Ma is a goddess from India. According to one of those heathen websites, she’s both nurturer and destroyer – the goddess of creation and necessary destruction.

HUSBAND

I never asked about the name.

WIFE

Such ambiguity… The woman on the phone said they help women murder their babies.

HUSBAND

They help poor women obtain abortions.

WIFE

So you do know them!

HUSBAND

Yes –

WIFE

I told her there must be some mistake. My husband would never… I mean, we’re a pro-life family… The woman on the phone said you gave then $500.

HUSBAND

I’ve given then a lot more than that over the years.

WIFE

Over the years?! What do you mean “over the year?” I don’t understand –

HUSBAND

I know –

WIFE

You know how I feel about –

HUSBAND

What about how I feel –

WIFE

I thought I knew how you felt –

HUSBAND

Why? Because I go to Mass every Sunday?

WIFE

Because we’re good Catholics. Good Catholics don’t support… With our money… Just promise me you won’t do it again.

HUSBAND

It is our money. Both of our –

WIFE

I would never spend that much money on something I knew you hated.

HUSBAND

Don’t you even want to know why?

WIFE

No! Just promise –

HUSBAND

So, it doesn’t matter –

WIFE

Why you did this to me? No, I –

HUSBAND

I didn’t do it to… You have to understand… It doesn’t have anything to do with you.

WIFE

I’m your wife! How could it not have anything to so with me?

HUSBAND

It was so long ago – years before we met.

WIFE

Some old girlfriend get herself pregnant?

HUSBAND

Women don’t get themselves pregnant… It was my girlfriend in college –

WIFE

Sheila. The one who died.

HUSBAND

Yes.

WIFE

You said she died from complications after surg… Oh my God.

HUSBAND

If you can call that butcher a surgeon… It was the summer before we were supposed to start grad school. We couldn’t see any other way.

WIFE

You could have gotten married.

HUSBAND

Getting married wouldn’t have solved anything. I mean, I wanted to married her. We were planning to get married… But, it was just the wrong time for us to have a baby. We both had fellowships… It just seemed like too much to give up… Things would have been so different if we could have come up with a few hundred dollars.

WIFE

What difference would money have made?

HUSBAND

I would have been able to take her someplace where abortion was legal – New York, Puerto Rico even. She would have had a real doctor, sterile conditions. Don’t let anyone tell you that money doesn’t matter. With money, you have choices.

WIFE

That’s not true! Having money means that you can force your choices on others.

HUSBAND

Wait a minute. I never forced –

WIFE

I know…

She picks up the dress.

WIFE

Tell me, do you think this dress would justify necessary destruction?

HUSBAND

I don’t understand.

WIFE

Well, as its name suggests, the Holly Cotillion takes place in December – the Saturday between Christmas and New Years. The year I made my bow, it actually fell on New Year’s Eve… I would have been in my third trimester -- eight months… I always wondered if the timing had been… Of course, then I would have had to skip my freshman year of college. But, at least I would have been able to fit into this damn dress. Mother would have just told people that I was spending a semester at a finishing school in Europe before starting college in January. And, I could have kept my baby… Well… at least I could have put her up for adoption… But there was simply no way Mother could have explained my absence from the Holly Cotillion… So you see why abortion has to be illegal. To protect –

HUSBAND

Illegal abortion is the reason Sheila died. But your mother forcing you to –

WIFE

Did you and Sheila ever consider adoption?

HUSBAND

Oh… Uh… No. No, we didn’t. I don’t know. It never came up. I mean, it was either get married and have the baby, or…

WIFE

Whose idea was the abortion?

HUSBAND

I don’t know. It’s been so long. I honestly don’t remember which one of us brought it up… Sheila was ambitious.

WIFE

Not like me, you mean.

HUSBAND

Why didn’t you tell me? You should have told me. You know that I would have understood.

WIFE

I know it now… Tell me, if I hadn’t answered the phone this morning, would you have ever told me about Sheila?

HUSBAND

Point taken. You were just so devoutly Catholic.

WIFE

You know what they say about the devotion of the converted.

HUSBAND

You would have never understood.

WIFE

I still don’t.

HUSBAND

And you wouldn’t have married me.

WIFE

You’re right. I wouldn’t have married you. And, I can’t stay married to you now.

HUSBAND

What?!

WIFE

We can’t stay married.

HUSBAND

You want to end our marriage? Doesn’t the Church have something to say about divorce?

WIFE

We never had a marriage. So, an annulment –

HUSBAND

An annulment?! People get annulments when they want to remarry in the Church. What do you mean we never had a marriage? We had a marriage. We have a marriage. With a daughter – and a grandchild.

WIFE

A real marriage in the eyes of the Church means there was a sacramental bond at the time of the marriage. I looked it up. And without trust, there –

HUSBAND

It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you. I loved you. I still love you. I didn’t want to hurt you… Why didn’t you tell me?

WIFE

I was so ashamed. I didn’t think you would want me.

HUSBAND

So, it was you who didn’t trust me?

WIFE

In a sacramental marriage, spouses share everything with each other. They don’t keep secrets.

HUSBAND

Well what about… Look, everyone gets to keep a few secrets. I never told you about the candy bar I stole when I was seven –

WIFE

I’ve given this a lot of thought.

HUSBAND

A lot of thought? Up until a few hours ago –

WIFE

I know.

HUSBAND

How much thought –

WIFE

A lot.

HUSBAND

Okay, we need to sit down with Father -

WIFE

We will.

HUSBAND

So, do you have any thoughts about how we’ll explain this to our family?

WIFE

I didn’t get that far.

HUSBAND

You didn’t get that far? I’m trying to figure out how you got this far. I’m the same person I was ten minutes ago. You’re the same –

WIFE

No, we’re not the same people. We know things about each other now that we didn’t ten minutes ago. And –

HUSBAND

Look. It must seem so huge right now. I know that. And if it’s about the money, I promise, I won’t –

WIFE

It’s not even that -

HUSBAND

But, in time –

WIFE

No, more time won’t help… When I make the meringue for the Bûche Noël every Christmas, sometimes the egg whites won’t inflate. And it’s because there a bit of yolk or grease in the bowl – so tiny that I don’t see it. But it’s there. And no matter how long I beat them, those egg whites will never inflate.

HUSBAND

Meringue!? What does –

WIFE

So, I have to throw them away, and start over with new eggs and a clean bowl –

HUSBAND

Okay, all right. So how do we –

WIFE

I don’t see how I’ll ever be able not to remember this.

HUSBAND

We can always hope for Alzheimer’s.

She gasps.

HUSBAND

Sorry. I’m so sorry. It was a bad joke. I apologize. But, I just wish I knew how to make this right. Look, doesn’t the Church preach forgiveness? Can’t we find a way to forgive each other?

WIFE

I wish… I should have just –

HUSBAND

What? What do you wish?

She picks up the gown and hangs it carefully on the rack before she speaks.

WIFE

I wish that I hadn’t answered the phone.

She exits and the lights go down.

STORY FOUR:

THE SCARF

SCENE 1

The lights come up on a sparely furnished living room. Just off center stage there is an overstuffed sofa; a coffee table in front holds a phone, one or two coffee table books and a couple of coasters. The doorbell RINGS and Mother enters stage left. She is in her 50s, dressed in wool pants, a cashmere twin set, pearls and pumps.

MOTHER

Coming!

Mother crosses to stage right. OS the door opens.

MOTHER(OS)

A package for me?

Driver(OS)

Yes, ma’am. Sign here please. Thanks.

MOTHER(OS)

Thank you very much.

The door CLOSES OS, and Mother enters stage right carrying a small FedEx box and murmuring to herself “I wonder what this is?” She sits on the sofa, opens the box and pulls out a folded up piece of fabric. She unfolds, then holds up a beautiful long scarf – the identical twin of the scarf in story one – which perfectly complements what she’s wearing.

MOTHER

Oh my!

FEMALE VOICE (OS)

Who was at the door?

MOTHER

Just FedEx, Honey.

Honey, in her late-20-early 30s, wearing leggings and a sweatshirt and carrying a mug, enters from stage right.

HONEY

Mother, what a beautiful scarf! Can I have it when you die?

Honey sits next to her mother and sets the mug on the table. Mother sets the scarf in her lap, places a coaster under the mug.

MOTHER

May I have it, which is exactly what I said to Cali the first time I saw her wearing this scarf.

HONEY

Really?

MOTHER

I don’t understand your question.

HONEY

I don’t know… It just seems out of character for you.

MOTHER

Honey, what a perfectly ridiculous thing to say.

HONEY

When did Cali die?

MOTHER

Cali’s not dead, Honey. She’s fine, at least she was yesterday. I stopped by her place for lunch on my way here.

HONEY

So why did she send you the scarf? And why did she send it here?

MOTHER

I don’t know.

HONEY

Is she still living all by herself in that tiny little house right on the salt marsh?

MOTHER

Yes, she is.

HONEY

I loved when we would visit her in the summer.

MOTHER

Too many people. I can’t bear the Cape until at least October.

HONEY

What did Cali say when you asked her if you could have the scarf?

MOTHER

Goodness, I don’t remember. It’s been years and years. Of course, I do recall her saying that she hoped I wouldn’t be wanting to wear it anytime soon. I really can’t imagine why she sent this to me now.

Mother folds the scarf carefully and places it on the coffee table, then picks up the phone, punches. After a moment, she puts the phone back on the table.

MOTHER

No answer.

HONEY

Try her cell.

MOTHER

I don’t know the number… I remember telling Cali that I didn’t want a cell phone because I was afraid it would ring all the time. She told me that if I didn’t give the number to anyone it wouldn’t ring.

HONEY

Well, Cali has always been one to practice what she preaches.

MOTHER

Indeed. Of course, phones don’t really ring anymore.

HONEY

Mother, of course phones ring.

MOTHER

No, now they chirp – or play the first eight bars of the William Tell Overture. In the pre-digital age, phones had a real bell in the ringer. I miss phones that ring.

Mother picks up the phone and redials. Honey picks up one of the books on the coffee table.

HONEY

Aren’t we nostalgic this morning, Mother? Must be the scarf.

Mother sets the phone back on the table.

MOTHER

I’ll try Cali later.

Mother stands up. She starts to take the mug; Honey takes it back.

MOTHER

Now, why don’t you get dressed while your mother makes you a proper breakfast.

Mother picks up the box and scarf and exits stage right. Honey waits until Mother is off-stage before speaking.

HONEY

I am dressed, Mother.

The lights fade.

SCENE 2

The same setting, later that night. The lights come up on Honey on the couch reading her book.

MOTHER (OS)

You’ll let me know. Thank you… I know.

Mother enters stage right, holding the scarf.

HONEY

It’s so late. Who were you talking to?

MOTHER

It was Cali’s neighbor.

Mother sits on the sofa.

MOTHER

Cali is dead.

Honey sits on the sofa.

HONEY

Dead!? How could she be dead? You just saw her yesterday.

MOTHER

She had lung cancer… Of course, I begged her to stop smoking… She didn’t say a word to me. Not one word.

HONEY

Strange that she didn’t just give you the scarf yesterday?

MOTHER

She couldn’t… She was wearing it, as a turban… It was stunning. I even commented on it. I suppose if she had taken it off, well… I thought she looked wonderful, so much thinner than I had seen her in years… It never occurred to me that anything was wrong… I simply cannot believe that afterall these years… I don’t understand why she didn’t tell me.

HONEY

(to herself)

If you understood, she would have…

MOTHER

What?

HONEY

Nothing.

Mother places the scarf around her neck.

MOTHER

I wonder if she knew that yesterday would be the last time we would see each other?

After a long pause, Honey speaks.

HONEY

Of course she knew, Mother. Why else would she have sent this to you?

As Honey strokes the edge of the scarf gently with the tips of her fingers, Mother is horrified as she slowly realizes that Cali committed suicide.

MOTHER

No. Oh no, not that… Cali wouldn’t do that. She couldn’t…

HONEY

What else could it be, Mother? You said yourself that she looked fine yesterday.

Mother and Honey sit silently. When Mother realizes that she is still wearing the scarf, she takes it off quickly, as though it were burning her neck. Mother lays the scarf on the coffee table and begins to fold it very precisely, leaning over to smooth it before each fold, as if to push away the pain it has come to represent. After two or three folds she stops.

MOTHER

Memory can play such tricks. This scarf isn’t at all as I remembered it. Honey, I think you should have it.

Mother lays the scarf around Honey’s neck.

HONEY

Mother, Cali gave this to you.

Honey takes the scarf off and hands it back to Mother.

MOTHER

Honey, the colors are all wrong for me. You know, our skin tone changes with age. This might have looked good on me then… But see how pretty it looks with your hair.

Mother holds the scarf next to Honey’s hair.

HONEY

Mother, this isn’t about the colors.

MOTHER

Honey, I think Cali would want you to have this. She was so fond of you. And I can’t remember the last time I wore a scarf. It would just sit in a drawer. You’ll get more use out of it.

Mother tries to put the scarf in Honey’s hands, but Honey pushes it away.

HONEY

So it will sit in your drawer. So what! You asked Cali to give you this scarf when she died and she did. It’s yours. Keep it.

MOTHER

And remember how she ended her life every time I see it? No!

HONEY

Yes, yes! Remember how Cali died. But can’t you remember how she lived as well?

Mother takes a moment to consider Honey’s advice.

MOTHER

No… I can’t.

Before Honey realizes what she’s saying, the words fly out of her mouth for the first time.

HONEY

You mean you won’t.

MOTHER

No, I mean I c… You never forget the first time you hear your mother’s words coming out of your mouth.

Mother lays the scarf in Honey’s lap

MOTHER

Put this someplace where I won’t see it.

Mother stands up and exits stage right. Honey sits with the scarf in her lap. After a moment, she folds it neatly, and starts to place it on the table, then changes her mind and drapes it carefully over the back of the sofa. Honey gets up, turns out the floor lamp as the lights fade to half. She exits stage left. After what seems like a long time, Mother enters stage right. As she walks past the sofa, she sees the scarf and stops. She picks it up and, struggling to hold back the tears, places it around her neck as the lights fade.

STORY FIVE

FIFTY AND COUNTING

The setting is an attic. The time is now. There are several packing boxes and a couple of chairs, perhaps a clothing rack. A well-dressed man in his late-70s-early80s, EX-HUSBAND, enters and sets down a decorative wine bag, then begins poking through one of the boxes. After a moment, a casually-dressed woman the same age, EX-WIFE enters and looks around.

EX-WIFE

Why are you so dressed up? We’re going to get filthy going through all this junk.

EX-HUSBAND

It’s good to see you. You’re looking well.

EX-WIFE

So are you… It’s just a little strange being back here.

EX-HUSBAND

Why strange? This was our home for – how many years? Our daughter’s home now.

EX-WIFE

Not for much longer… That’s why we’re here. I meant up here – in the attic

EX-HUSBAND

Yeah, I know… So how long has it been?

EX-WIFE

Since what?

EX-HUSBAND

Since we were up here?

EX-WIFE

How long have we been divorced?

EX-HUSBAND

Right. But who’s counting?

He starts looking through the boxes.

EX-HUSBAND

Where did we put those champagne flutes your sister gave us?

EX-WIFE

Champagne flutes? What do we need –

EX-HUSBAND

You don’t remember?

EX-WIFE

Well, of course I remember… Try that box in the back.

EX-HUSBAND

Here they are.

He removes the tissue paper from two teacups.

EX-HUSBAND

Oh, well… They’ll do. Here, hold these.

She takes the cups and looks around for a place to set them down while he removes the champagne bottle from the bag.

EX-WIFE

Look at all this junk. Talk about postponing the inevitable. Why did we leave all this stuff behind?

EX-HUSBAND

One advantage of selling to your kid – free storage.

He sets the bottle down.

EX-WIFE

Considering the break we gave them on the price, free storage was least we could expect.

EX-HUSBAND

Oh, come on, she’s our only child. You couldn’t move out fast enough after we split up. And I certainly didn’t want to live here by myself –

EX-WIFE

Well, you weren’t by yourself for very long, now were you?

EX-HUSBAND

And we’re off.

EX-WIFE

So exactly what are we celebrating here? Obviously, we’re not married any more.

EX-HUSBAND

Obviously. And what do you mean “any more?” According to your church, we were never really married.

EX-WIFE

What do you mean “my church?” It’s your church, too. And your second wife certainly appreciated being able to marry you in the church.

EX-HUSBAND

Well, you were the one who insisted on an annulment. I still don’t understand why the divorce wasn’t enough. You‘ll like this; now she’s the one wanting an annulment –

EX-WIFE

What? Why?

EX-HUSBAND

At least her reasoning makes some kind of sense; she wants to remarry her first husband – in the church, of course.

EX-WIFE

If I couldn’t make you understand then, I don’t think I’d –

EX-HUSBAND

Well, I thought you’d appreciate the irony anyway. Christ – the whole thing’s a shell game. I’ve been married practically my entire adult life. Yet, according to “my Church,” I’ve never had a valid marriage – bunch of Catholic mumbo jumbo…

EX-WIFE

But why are you two splitting up?

EX-HUSBAND

She and hubby number one never had kids. And she always liked not having the responsibility for a family. Of course, it wasn’t as though she had to be a real parent to Bernadette. And she tolerated the grandchildren, but –

EX-WIFE

Yes, tolerated is the perfect word –

EX-HUSBAND

But when our daughter really needed me – needed us – she resented the time. So, she’s gone – back to him. I always thought I was pretty good husband material, but –

EX-WIFE

You were pretty good husband material. Probably still are… Was it just the time she resented? Or who you were spending that time with – besides Bernadette and the kids?

EX-HUSBAND

I don’t want to deflate your ego – what do they call it now? – self-esteem, but it really didn’t matter who I was spending time with. If it wasn’t with her, she resented it. She didn’t seem that demanding before we got married.

EX-WIFE

Please! She was always high maintenance. Everyone knew that but you.

EX-HUSBAND

Now that’s a little harsh, don’t you think?

EX-WIFE

You’re well rid of her.

EX-HUSBAND

Hey –

EX-WIFE

I never liked her –

EX-HUSBAND

No kidding!

EX-WIFE

And I never understood why you married her practically before the ink was dry –

EX-HUSBAND

I was lonely. I like being married – having someone to come home to – someone to take care of – someone to take care of me. I’m not getting any younger, you know. This is going to be the first time I’ve lived alone. Roommates in college and grad school – we were married forever. Can’t say that I’m looking forward to it.

EX-WIFE

I had never lived alone before either. But I’ve come to –

EX-HUSBAND

You chose it. It’s a little different when you have it thrust upon you.

EX-WIFE

Something you and Bernadette have in common.

EX-HUSBAND

Yeah, we talk about that. Actually, I’ve been thinking –

EX-WIFE

Oh, no! No, no, no –

EX-HUSBAND

What?

EX-WIFE

She has her hands full right now. She doesn’t need to take care of you too.

EX-HUSBAND

Look, she’s lonely, and she can use the help. You don’t –

EX-WIFE

I’m her mother. I think I would know what –

EX-HUSBAND

And I’m her father –

EX-WIFE

I know the two of you have always been close. But it’s not the same thing as a mother and daughter. Bernadette and I have a special bond, so –

EX-HUSBAND

So… Listen, you always think you know everything, but you don’t. We were at an open house and –

EX-WIFE

She asked you to look at houses?

EX-HUSBAND

Yes, she did.

EX-WIFE

And she wants you to live with them?

EX-HUSBAND

Yes, she does…

EX-WIFE

Okay… Well, if that’s what she wants… So, why the champagne?

EX-HUSBAND

Well, we can agree that fifty years ago, today, there was a wedding, can’t we? We were both there. I wore tails. You were in white lace and you carried roses. We got married –

EX-WIFE

It was ivory satin, and they were lilies. And you wore a morning coat.

EX-HUSBAND

Really? Are you sure?

EX-WIFE

Of course, I’m sure. Women don’t forget the fabric –

EX-HUSBAND

I just thought –

EX-WIFE

Let’s look. Our wedding album must be up here somewhere.

She starts to get up.

EX-HUSBAND

Don’t bother. I’m sure you’re right… I just thought the occasion was worth celebrating.

EX-WIFE

Well, at least acknowledging… We really should start going through this stuff.

EX-HUSBAND

What’s the rush? We’ve waited this long. Come on.

He begins to uncork the champagne.

EX-HUSBAND

Where are the cups?

She holds the cups as he pours. He takes one of the cups.

EX-HUSBAND

So what shall we drink to?

EX-WIFE

I don’t know. We’re spending our 50th wedding anniversary together, sorting through the stuff we left in the attic when we sold the house to our daughter because we got divorced and neither of us wanted to stay here; now Bernadette’s selling the house because her husband dropped dead and she can’t bear to stay here. I can’t think of a toast to cover all that, can you?

He lifts his cup.

EX-HUSBAND

To us?

She lifts hers.

EX-WIFE

How about “cheers?”

EX-HUSBAND

Cheers it is, then.

They clink cups as the lights come down.

STORY SIX

READING BETWEEN THE LINES

Each side of stage is set with a table and one or two chairs. A woman around 40, ADULT ADOPTED CHILD, sits at a table stage left. She’s sipping coffee and reading a newspaper. A woman in her 60s, HAPPY EMPTY NESTER, enters stage right and sits down at the other table. She pulls some paper and a pen out of her bag and begins writing.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

Why do adult, adopted children think they can interrupt people’s lives with no consequences?

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

The letter was signed “Happy Empty Nester,” but I read that first sentence and I knew it was her. So pretentious – and dramatic! Of course I knew there would be consequences. How could a person reunite with a biological parent and not expect consequences – that’s the whole point -- consequences.

Love the third person: “people’s lives.” Not “my life,” which is what she really meant, of course. And wasn’t “interrupt” an interesting choice? Makes it sound as though I showed up in the middle of dinner. I looked through the thesaurus and found a few alternatives I think more precisely reflect her true meaning – “disturb,” “intrude,” “disrupt,” “up end” – come to mind. Of course, “interrupt” might suggest that she felt that after the interruption they would resume their lives as if nothing had happened. Ha!

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

Why do they think that everyone will be thrilled to have an instant family with no escape?

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Well, I was never under any illusions that she was going to be thrilled by my appearance, although of course, I did harbor some hope. But, well let’s just say her use of the word “escape” is ironic.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

I am the wife of the biological father.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Surprised you there, didn’t she? Admit it. You assumed she was the biological mother I’d been searching for. Of course, it did take her three sentences to reveal the supporting role she actually plays in this family drama. Have to wonder why she thought our little situation would result in an “instant family.” And one from which she would want to escape…

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

We have been happily married for 30 years, and now there is a daughter who thinks we should love her like family.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

About those 30 happy years, I don’t know… I shouldn’t say that. My father’s never said anything negative. He does love her, that’s pretty obvious. And he’s loyal and very protective of her, but…

As for her thinking that I think they should love me like family. I’m still not sure what I expected. But I just don’t understand why she thinks I would expect her to love me like family? I mean, it’s not as though she’s my birth mother. It’s complicated. I’ve always had the love of a family. Yes, they’re my adopted family, but they are my family and they always will be.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

She is not my family.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

At least we agree about something.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

I have accepted the fact that my husband is her father and we see her three to four times a year.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Has she now? Well, I suppose that depends on how precisely you parse the word accept. Now, it is true that the three of us get together a few times a year. She’s the one who organizes our little get-togethers. And what happy times they are – straight out of Bergman – or Interiors – same difference.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

She and my husband talk via phone frequently.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

“Talk via phone!” Yes, my father and I do talk on the phone often. I think she’s made her peace with the phone calls and our little get-togethers. I’m not sure she’s able to handle more than that. What she doesn’t know is that I actually live only a couple of hours away, and that my father and I see each other at least once a month. I’m not sure what she’d say if she knew. Well, yes, I do know what she’d say. And so does he, which is why she doesn’t know. It’s just that all this sneaking around is starting to make me feel as though there’s something untoward about my relationship with my father. But there isn’t. It’s just her.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

I do not do anything to keep them apart.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Someone needs to introduce this woman to an apostrophe. And to the, dynamics, the manifestations – I don’t know – the whole gestalt of passive-aggressive behavior.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

I wish this young woman had some idea of what she did to our lives.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

I do. I do know. How could I not?

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

We were very content before she discovered us.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

To hear my father tell it, they were in a rut. Actually, how did he put it, they were “comfortably settled” in their routine.” Close enough. Now about exactly who discovered whom –

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

She has added nothing to make my life better.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Ordinarily, I wouldn’t dignify that with a comment, but… It’s just that this part makes me sad. The first time I met my father he talked about how much they had wanted children – how hard they had tried -- the miscarriages, one in her third-trimester. I know I’ve filled a void in his life. And I’m pretty sure that he hoped my presence might fill the void in hers. I mean, he never said anything specifically, but he was just so anxious for the two of us to meet. Well, you didn’t need to be a psychic to know what he was thinking. I’d just met him, so I didn’t know how to slow him down. I mean, did he really think that my appearance would replace the babies she lost? And that was before I met her.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

Why did she feel she had to find her father?

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

She has no idea. As soon as I met her, I understood why my father wanted her to believe that I was the one who came looking for him. The truth is that it was he who found me.

He never knew I existed until he was contacted by the executor of my birth mother’s estate.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

How do I convince her that if we had wanted a family we would have had one?

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

I suppose only after she convinces herself. Now, my birth mother, she was under no illusions that she wanted a family. Since I was the sole beneficiary of her estate, I assume I was it.

But that was it. No personal mementos, no piece of jewelry – nothing but the money. I can’t say that the money hasn’t made my life easier. But, I would have traded it all to have something that was hers. Or a letter. Some sense of how she felt about giving me away. Did she think about me? Wonder how I was growing up?

For a while I thought I’d never know. But the internet is a wonderful thing. Turns out that my birth mother was quite the artist – talented, reclusive – not very prolific. But what she did create was beautiful and powerful – and not at all sentimental – very much as my father described her. I tracked down a series of paintings she made while she was pregnant with me. They told me everything I needed to know. She sold all of them – most are in museums – but two were privately held. I recently acquired one at auction.

She rummages in her bag and pulls a scarf out her bag.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

Her photograph was in the auction catalog. I found this in a thrift shop. It reminded me of the scarf she was wearing in the picture.

HAPPY EMPTY NESTER

Sincerely, Happy Empty Nester.

She exits stage right.

ADULT ADOPTED CHILD

I almost forgot about her. Who came up with “Happy Empty Nester”? Let’s assume it was the editors. Did they read the letter? Does the writer sound happy? I mean, I know she said they had been happily married, but you’d think an advice columnist could read between the lines. And where did they get “empty nesters” from? Does the phrase not presume that one had children – a family? Children who grew up and left the nest? Her last sentence says that if they had wanted a family they would have had one, which they didn’t. Of course, they don’t know what I do. And she’s made it plain that I don’t count. I don’t get it.

Actually, when I read their answer, I did get it. Their suggestions – “stop fuming over the inconvenience” (inconvenience?!) and accept the situation “graciously” – were they kidding? How could they not see the anger – the rage – feel her pain? Of course, deconstructing her prose and exposing the emotional underpinnings might make a nice thesis topic for a psych grad student. So, I guess there’s not too much an advice columnist could have done in a pithy paragraph or two.

When she stands up, we see that she is visibly pregnant. She leaves the paper on the chair and exits stage left.

 

© 2007 Lynn Liccardo

 Limited Licensing: I, the copyright holder of this work, hereby publish it under the Creative Commons Attribution license, granting distribution of my copyrighted work without making changes, with mandatory attribution to Lynn Liccardo and for non-commercial purposes only. Lynn Liccardo