Synced & corrected by kinglouisxx www.addic7ed.com
Frankie, how did the medicine cabinet get into the couch?
- Oh, don't ask. - It's a simple question.
Ah. I know, but the answer is complicated. My majorette boots.
Frankie, I'm not cleaning up after you.
Or doing your dishes, that, by the way, have been in the sink for two day...
- Did you say majorette boots? - Yes.
There have been many Frankies, as it turns out, in this lifetime alone.
With many vaginas. There are four more here than I ever needed to see.
And my baton.
This used to be my signature move.
No, it's the pajamas that make it yours.
Oh, my God, my old yearbook.
Frankie, look at me. Look at me.
Look at my face. My eyes. Good.
I don't know what the division of labor was in your marriage...
Bud did most of the cleaning.
Here, will you get a load of me for a fat second?
This girl is fearless. She is a hurricane of vim and vigor
and elastic skin.
- "Dear Frances..." - Frances?
"You are a hoot. Remember me always,
as I will remember you and all our intrepid adventures.
- Your Best Friend Forever, Donny." - Oh, who's Donny?
I'm not sure. I don't remember, but I remember Frances.
- Wait, "Frances Mengela"? - Men-jella.
It was an unfortunate last name. It's the only reason I took Sol's.
This is Frances eating a corn dog on the hood of a Thunderbird.
Oh, she's a daredevil. She's plucky. She's adventurous.
You're sitting on a parked car.
I'm making a point. You know how I've been looking everywhere
for the new me, and all the while she was here.
The old me is the best new me. Vive la Frances.
Go fuck yourself.
That's the spirit.
Come on, Grace. Haven't you ever been anyone else?
No, I am consistently the same person, it's part of my schtick.
I mean, wasn't there a best Grace?
Well, once. Maybe.
I know when. And I know who brought the playful out in you.
It rhymes with Brazil Milstein.
Oh. His name is Phil. End of subject.
Is that Usain Bolt? Oh no, it's my dad.
Welcome home, Daddy.
Thank you, sweetheart. It's so good to be home.
Come and relax.
Ooh.
What is that?
It's a lift chair.
Looks like it came from the pancake restaurant where Death eats.
OK. I know I got you an ugly present, but, Dad, it's so practical.
When you need to get up, it raises you into a standing position.
You're welcome.
What this chair lacks in form, it makes up for in function.
It will save you from straining your groin.
Can we have five minutes where no one mentions my groin?
Send it back, please. I'm not an invalid.
No one's saying you're an invalid, we just want you to take it easy.
And, look, it gives you a massage.
No, it doesn't do that, Sol. That was a hundred dollars more.
- Oh. - I'll give you $200 to put it on the curb.
No...
That would have been so much easier with a lift.
This is better.
Grace! Grace, you're not gonna believe what I did.
You're gonna kiss me. Or not.
Certainly not on the lips, maybe about the head somewhere.
- Or you might want to kick me out. - Well, I'm not kissing you,
so take all your vaginas with you when you go.
I found a Phil Milstein.
I never asked you to look for Phil.
I'm an amateur sleuth with limited self-control and a computer.
- It was a perfect storm. - Is that my computer?
Calm down. Mine's frozen. I think by the FBI.
It could be a virus, but either way, best to lay low for a while.
- I think I found your Phil. - He's not my Phil.
He never was.
Well, is-is there a picture?
Uh, no. But his cover photo is a wet Rottweiler.
He's a contractor who was born in San Antonio.
Oh, my God, it's him.
I knew it!
Now tell me what happened with you two. Spill it, lady.
No. No. I am not interested.
Oh, right, why would you be interested in the great love of your life?
I'm gonna erase it, my finger is on the eraser key.
There is no eraser key. Frankie, just forget it.
It's not meant to be.
I was with Robert. Our timing was off. I had the girls.
Please just drop it.
Look, he lives in Mission Viejo,
and he's passionate about the national dam system.
At least you have that in common.
I haven't seen him in 15 years.
If we get in the car right now, we could see him by cocktail hour.
I can find his address for $9.99.
Give me your credit card. Oh, never mind, I-I finally have it memorized.
No, no, no. No! I cannot at 71 years old drive to Mission Viejo,
unannounced to... for all intents and purposes,
stalk a man I have no business contacting.
Get in the car, Grace.
You don't have to talk to him, you can hide in the glove compartment.
- You'd probably fit. - I don't know.
Come on, don't you wonder what he looks like?
What did he look like?
I wonder if he still has his mustache.
I wish you could see your eyes right now.
I can imagine you at 18.
- Oh, I like this Grace. - Really?
Mmm.
I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
What is the worst that could happen? That he's bald?
That he still likes you? That he wants to make a suit out of your skin?
What? Oh, come on, let's do it.
- OK! - Ah, booyah! Ah.
Oh, God. This is so fun.
Ah, wait. Snacks for the road.
- Frances can drive. - Frances always drives.
Once through a closed garage door, but... nobody was hurt.
You've done this before, haven't you?
Please don't cross your legs, the doctor said not to.
The doctor also said not to drive me crazy.
- What? - Nothing. Love you.
Jeez.
What is that?
Look.
- Oh, man. - Right?
What? What?
I think these are the vows that Robert wrote.
Dad. Dad. Dad, sit up.
- Dad. Sit up. - Sit up. Sit up.
He really loves me.
He has no idea he married
- a lying sack of shit. - Shh.
Come on, Grace. Hurry up! Hm.
Coming. I'm coming.
Are you aware that Mission Viejo is the birthplace of Florence Griffith Joyner?
Well, isn't that the cherry on top?
If we take the side streets, we can be there in about three hours,
- but that's without pee breaks. - Three hours?
We're driving to Mission Viejo, not the Middle East.
It's an hour on the freeway with traffic.
There are some things you don't know about me.
Well, I know about the charges on my credit card.
It's freeways. I'm terrified of them.
Sol drove while I assumed the crash position.
- Fine. I'll drive drunk. - No, no, no, no.
- Frances always drives. - Then drive!
I'm about to remember this is a terrible idea.
Why do they all hate me?
They hate you because they want to go home.
We've been sitting here 15 minutes. You know, the idea is to merge.
How do you get in? How do you do it?
You put your foot on the long, skinny pedal and push.
It's not that hard.
- Here's your window. Go, go. Go! - I can't.
It's like jump rope. You pick your moment and jump in.
No, but I broke both my clavicles jumping rope.
I had to spend the whole summer indoors.
Oh, I wonder if my-my pen pal Jordy is still alive.
- Go, go. Frankie, go! - My brain is sending the signal,
- my foot's giving me the finger. - Oh, grow some, Frances!
It's a good day to die!
Ah. Ahhh. Ah.
Excuse me.
Go.
Look at me, Sol, you putz!
Dad, this is amazing.
I'm not doing anything and I'm about to stand up.
I'm almost up.
- I'm up. - Hey, Brianna, are these yours?
You've been hiding cigars from me?
I've never seen those Robustos that you should handle carefully
before in my life.
Have you found his pork rind stash yet?
- Brianna. - His what?
That ice bucket came with those pork rinds in it.
He used to keep Slim Jims in the waffle maker.
Remember that, Daddy? 'Member when you did that?
Brianna, for the love of God, will you give me some peace?
Who hides junk food? Fifteen-year-old girls.
And 30-year-old men do sometimes, when they're sad.
What else are you hiding from me?
It's just a stash, that's all. Please.
Can I not keep one thing that brings me joy?
- No. Find joy elsewhere. - I'd like to find joy elsewhere.
- You're hiding alcohol, too? - No, that's Mom's stash.
I'll get that to her.
- I'm gonna help Bri get that to her. - I'm gonna be their designated driver.
Of course, you guys have been so great through this whole thing.
You need to get on with your own lives.
Please, don't go! Please.
I'm not ready to be alone with him. Not yet. Not in our home.
Every time he looks at me... he trusts me.
I can't take it.
You're gonna have to be alone with him sometime, Dad.
- We can't move in. - I know. I'm being crazy.
Yeah. Turn around, walk back into the kitchen.
Calm down, you'll be fine.
String cheese?
Are you out of your mind?
OK, everybody back in.
It's cheese! It'll shoot through your arteries, slam into your heart,
and blow you right into the driveway!
It's part skim.
How did you meet him?
I was just thinking how nice it was that we'd reached a point in our relationship
where we can sit in a car and not talk.
You don't want to talk to me about Phil, fine.
How about I tell you about my theory on how the government controls the weather?
He was the contractor who did my kitchen. We became friends.
And then we met by chance one Friday after work.
Was he married, too?
He was. A few years ago, I heard he got divorced.
Ooh, the plot thickens. How long did it go on?
It never really got started. If it had, I wouldn't be here.
Well, that would be sad for me. But then I could get a hedgehog.
Mm.
- You've got company. - I do?
- Oh, that's not for me. - Well, who else is it for?
There's nobody else on the road.
No, thank you!
They're menaces to society. I've done nothing wrong.
I'm not speeding.
- Oh, it's you he's after. - Me? What did I do?
Your open container.
We'll never survive inside.
- Oh, please. - Well, you will.
You'll get a very butch girlfriend who'll protect you like a Fabergé egg.
How on earth is he gonna see my thermos through these filthy windows?
What, is he, Superman?
Hold tight. We might be in for the fight of our lives.
- Pull over, please. - Oh, listen to that.
- He's rabid with power. - Would you pull the damn car over?
- Ditch the booze. - Yeah, I got it,
I got it, I got it.
All right, keep your mouth shut and your eyes open.
We don't want to give this deviant a reason to go Dirty Harry on us.
How are you today, ma'am?
I know my civil rights, that's how I am.
- Good afternoon, Officer. - Ma'am.
I demand to know why you pulled me over. And be informed, I'm filming you.
- Here you go. Now you're filming me. - Oh.
Thank you. I appreciate that.
May I see your license and registration, please?
Oh, it's water. Because of the drought.
Yeah.
Did you know that your brake light is out, Ms... Bergstein?
And your license has been expired for three years.
Does it expire?
Yes, ma'am. The expiration date hints at that.
Oh. Well, I'll get everything fixed. Thank you.
Ma'am, you cannot drive.
That's ridiculous. How am I supposed to get to the DMV?
You'll figure something out, I guess.
What is this? Some kind of shakedown?
- I need water. - You cannot drive
until you get your license renewed, ma'am.
Oh, come on, we're like six blocks from the guy we're stalking.
No, no, no, you shouldn't tell me that.
In three years, it never occurred to you to look at your license?
I looked once, but the hologram made me dizzy.
That's it. On the corner.
What am I doing?
I should be driving us home.
Oh, no, you won't. Or you'll regret it the rest of your life.
Because you'll be spending it with me. Pull over.
- Damn it, this is exciting. - Oh, why did I come here?
No, no, it's never too late for love, my friend.
- Ah. - What?
- What do you see? - I see Phil's shoes.
I'm gonna say Timberland.
He looks like an over-pronator.
Do you remember him having bunions?
Yeah, it's all we talked about. That's how he hooked me.
- Mm. - What if he's not home?
Or if he's home, why would he come outside?
Not to worry. As an amateur sleuth, I always come with three plans:
We throw a rock through his window, he has to come out to see who did it.
- Well, we're not gonna do that. - OK, then,
- we ring his doorbell and we run away. - We actually can't do that.
- If we run slowly? - That's called walking.
OK. OK.
Plan three, and this is my pièce de résistance:
We order a pizza. He has to open the door when the pizza guy knocks.
That's actually not a bad idea.
He comes out, we duck down, he never sees us.
Oh, my God. I did that with Jerome Hodges in 11th grade.
Did it work?
Well, he caught me, we ate pizza, and I had my first orgasm. So, yes.
- Yes, hello, I need to order... - Oh...
...a very large vegetarian pizza.
I can't do this. Phil is not Jerome and I'm not in high school.
Oh, I hear you.
Would Phil like onions?
Where are you going?
To my own house, Sol. Where I live. To take my medication.
What is it? Maybe we have it.
It's a very delicate balance of cannabis, 12-year Scotch and Zoloft.
Dad, you'll be fine, OK? He's sleeping.
- But he'll wake up. - Then do something.
Y-You both need a distraction right now.
Binge on Antiques Roadshow.
No, no, he has to stay calm.
You should have seen the dance he did
when that nun found out her stained-glass lamp was Tiffany.
Then watch Walking Dead. Dad, we have to go.
I'm sorry. I am.
I'm just... I'm terrified that everything's going to change.
I don't mean to put it on you.
Wait, what do you mean everything's about to change?
We've had enough changes. No more changes.
But when I tell him about Frankie...
No, hold the phone. You're not telling him anything.
- I have to. - No, you don't. Trust me.
It's the worst idea you have ever had in a lifetime of bad ideas.
- He has to tell him sometime. - Why?
What? Really? No!
Let's all walk through this right now.
You feel horrible about what happened, right?
Worse than horrible.
And it's never, ever going to happen again, is it?
- Good God, no! - Then why tell him?
- What good could come of it? - Because it's a secret.
OK? And secrets are lies.
Right, so, for the rest of my life
I'm never going to be able to look him in the eye?
Mm-hmm. Some secrets are just meant to become cancer.
So just enjoy the rest of your now shortened life.
One problem with secrets: they always come out.
- Oh, God. - What the hell's going on?
What are all these hushed conversations, for heaven's sake?
Honey, we were being quiet. We didn't want to wake you.
All day, everybody's hunched and whispering.
What are you not telling me?
Did the doctor tell you something?
Am I dying, Sol? Is that why you got me that horrible chair?
No, no. You're fine. You're well. I swear.
All right, then what is it? What is the elephant in the room?
- Do you really want to know, Dad? - I have a right to know.
It's fine.
No. Don't.
Coyote has chlamydia.
Just a titch.
I'm over the hump.
They offered him pain pills but he refused.
- I'm so proud of you, kiddo. - Aw, thanks, Dad.
Ugh, where is he? Answer the door.
The guy can't knock all day.
Clearly he's not home. You need to go pay for the pizza.
I don't have any cash. Can't you pay for it?
Uh, excuse me. I'll take that.
- $15.99. - Grace?
Phil. Phil.
Who were you expecting?
You. I mean, it is your house.
And I-I-I... I thought I...
that I might run into you here.
Well, you did.
What are you doing here, Grace?
My friend and I were visiting Mission Viejo because...
Did you know that Florence Griffith Joyner was born here?
Anyway, we got a little lost,
so I ordered a pizza.
I don't even know what to say.
It's nice seeing you?
Oh, Phil. Phil, I...
I didn't come here for Flo-Jo.
Well, that's good. She's dead.
Oh, this... this is stupid. I shouldn't have come.
You're right about that.
Well, uh... OK.
I'm gonna go.
Come on, boy.
I'm sorry.
About what?
Not showing up 15 years ago or showing up 15 years too late?
Phil, I did show up.
I was there.
I went... right up to the door.
I was at the door.
I just... I couldn't do it.
Couldn't do what? Knock?
I wanted to, I did.
But you didn't. You left me sitting there.
I had no idea what happened to you.
I wanted to call you,
but I was afraid if I...
if I heard your voice...
What did you think was gonna happen here today?
I don't know.
Go home, Grace.
Are you OK?
I'm fine.
I can drive.
You don't have a license.
I can read to you from New Law Journal.
There's a searing article about corroborative witnesses.
Honey, I want you to tell me what is wrong.
And it's not about Coyote's chlamydia.
You've been out of your mind since we got home.
- No, I'm just tired. - I've seen you tired. This is not that.
I-I'm OK.
Sol, you realize I'm fine, right? The hard part is over and I made it.
Something else is going on.
Just tell me what it is, please.
I'm just so afraid of losing you.
What are you doing? You...
We never got a chance to do this part.
Your turn.
I'm not going anywhere.
I knew my license had lapsed. I...
I was afraid I couldn't pass the test.
Damn these boots.
My feet are killing me.
I'm sorry, Grace.
- I-I thought... - What? What did you think?
I'd hoped that when you saw him,
you would get your wish.
I don't need your hope.
Hope is overrated.
I meant well.
- I don't want to talk, Frankie. - But I...
I just need quiet.
I'm just saying you... you ran a red light.