Merry? Where did you go?
What are you doing in the closet?
I thought it was the housemother.
For God's sake, the taxi's waiting.
- Come on. Are you ready? - I'm ready.
- Are you taking him? - You think it's silly?
Just because you don't want to graduate.
He's been here three and a half years. Maybe he'd like to.
I couldn't leave Hamburger. He's been my family...
- ... ever since I was little. - Come on.
Give me this.
- Liz? - Yeah?
I guess he could stay and be some sort of company.
It's okay.
- Come on, Merry. - Okay, okay.
Liz, tell me. Aren't you just a little bit jealous?
Are you crazy?
Well, in a way, Doug's far more your type than mine, you know.
He likes the same old boring books.
A real brain.
Did I tell you he started smoking a pipe?
I swear on everything you consider holy, I do not envy you and Doug.
Well, he was your date.
Oh, Liz. Next time we meet I'm gonna be a married lady.
What do you think?
I'm gonna be an unmarried lady.
There he is.
Doug.
Hi.
Hello, Doug.
- You been good? - Flawless.
Do you see what I mean?
We better go.
I'm not stealing your roommate. She's following me...
...all the way to California.
Yeah. You rats.
Have a wonderful life...
...trip, everything.
You owe me one.
To talk about debuts being auspicious...
...is to talk about the career of Liz Hamilton.
She came to our attention with her very first novel, Night Song.
A remarkable achievement...
...because it won the National Writer's Award...
...and she was then only early in her 20s.
Since then her essays have appeared in reviews and in journals.
And her second novel is promised to us for later this year.
Or maybe early next year in 1970...
...if she gets to it.
Oh, look. Oh, God.
- Although she doesn't identify... - Hi. Liz.
...herself specifically with feminist politics...
...her works are themselves an evocation of the feminine life.
A plea for the feminine ethic...
...a demand for a space to be just that, female.
I'm very pleased that she's with us today.
Please, help me greet Liz Hamilton.
Thank you.
My sincere thanks to Professor Fields.
My thanks, also definitely sincere, to the Women's Caucus...
...for sending me a ticket to come to this warm climate.
And receive such a warm reception.
I'm not sure it's an exclusively feminine instinct...
...but I need a lot of warmth.
Perhaps it is true, as Professor Fields has said...
...that I do not involve myself specifically in feminist politics.
Why not?
Perhaps I am too exclusively involved in work.
That is, in writing and the paralysis that seems to come with it.
I don't know why it is, but writers, many writers...
...must face some daily barrier of fear.
But then, a dear old man, James M. Cain said that:
"If your writing doesn't keep you up nights...
...it won't keep anyone else up either. "
I have a confession to make.
All my life, I've had a love for old men.
My father was old when I was born.
Older still, when he died.
My first novel was a memory of him.
And I am damn sure not going to apologize for that.
And this is, sort of, the entertaining area.
It's just a little thing, but, you know...
...little tiny houses out here on the beach...
...they cost as much as a mansion down home.
- Doug. - Hi, Daddy.
In case you've forgotten, that handsome man is my husband.
- Well, what do you think? - What?
- My house. - Terrific.
Doug resents we don't still live near the lab.
But I could not take it, I tell you, Pasadena.
Go see your daddy.
Look, honey, look who's here.
- Hi. - Hi, Doug.
- You're looking great. - Oh, you're the one.
- You're beautiful. - Is she?
Let me look?
Oh, my God. You don't look bad. And a celebrity too.
Debby, take your hands out of your pants.
You should have seen the admiration of all those girls.
Debby, we all have interesting things under our clothes...
...but we don't stand around and pick at them.
So you were a big hit on campus.
They tarred, but did not feather me.
What we call boffo box office.
Oh, now Douglas, don't you start.
Here in Malibu, we all talk show-biz talk.
Liz is not interested in any Hollywood silliness.
She's a New York authoress. Right, hon?
She takes her coffee every day at the Plaza Hotel, Palm Court.
And she eats her steaks at the Four Seasons on Park Avenue.
I'm impressed.
I take my coffee to go at a deli on Sixth Avenue.
I'm even more impressed.
If he had his way, we'd be over at Caltech all the time.
But those college people, they' re like Atlantics...
...except they lie even more.
When do I get to see more of your husband?
Later. We're having a party for you.
And he's agreed not to work for just a minute or two.
A party?
You're my only friend who's a celebrity.
- A very minor celebrity, Merry. - Oh, hell.
It'll do these folks good. They're all such major ones.
Oh, Liz, honey, look, this is Kent.
This is Kent, this is Liz.
Hi.
Don't fall all over yourself because it just embarrasses him.
Don't worry. I only know how to embarrass myself.
I'm sorry I haven't read any of your books.
Oh, there's only been one.
But, it's marvelous though, even the parts I don't understand.
What parts?
Parts unknown.
- Isn't she special? - But, Merry, wait, I, I-
How're you doing?
- I'm drunk. - Let me catch up.
You shouldn't be talking to the help. Half of Hollywood's here.
Yeah?
You wanna go for a walk?
- You get time off? - She likes me to rebel now and again.
Hey, your turn.
I'm right in the middle of a story.
How's the book coming?
Well, the first hundred pages? Terrific.
I've written them over five times in five years.
Is that how you normally write?
I don't write normally.
I'm what is called blocked. Isn't that humorless?
What about the Frenchman?
You still into him?
Into him? You talk hippie talk?
That's California talk, I think.
Are you?
I used to be very young.
Paris was very old.
He was intense. I was shy.
- He did all the work. - And now?
They ought to warn you before they let you fall in love.
I mean, for the first time.
You can pick the God-awfullest one.
And you don't recover. Not from the first. Never.
What comes after the Frenchman?
Nothing for the moment.
I got no lover, but I got a therapist.
Now, that's humorless.
Well, he says, "When I start writing again, I'll start loving. "
What he said was, "fucking again. "
Excuse me, Doug, the man's a Freudian.
Maybe it's the other way. Start loving, you'll start writing.
- I suggested that. - What'd he say?
He said, not writing was my problem.
We missing the party?
- The party's over. - I'm sorry.
It's the habit of this community to be suspicious.
When a married man goes off with a married woman's best friend...
...that's the occasion for suspicion.
We better move, because I'm not changing my habits.
It's my fault.
You know that. Anyway, tomorrow night David Steinberg will be here.
And on Friday, Joe Namath, who's gonna be a-
Joe will not do a monologue, because it takes him too-
Kiss? I'm not mad at you anymore.
- Better. - That's my best.
- Thank you, Doug. - Thank you.
Good night.
- Good night, honey. - Good night.
Merry, thank you.
What for?
For being there.
One year I come running from Paris, and you- You're there.
Another time, I want to crawl into a hole until the reviews come out...
...you open the door.
And the party.
Oh, that little party. Forget it.
I always thought if my books were a success, I would buy you a mink coat.
- Sable. - All right, sable.
Well, it was a big success. You were in Newsweek, honey.
There's a lot of broke people in Newsweek.
Some of these movie folk here knew your name.
They're all rich and famous.
You're just famous. That's harder to do.
All the good things happen to you.
Handsome husband.
A beautiful little girl.
And you know how to sew.
- Are you gonna drink? - Just a little.
Why?
I wanted to talk.
I can drink and talk. Go.
Liz, honey, I'm so proud of the way you turned yourself out.
I sound like a table leg.
I mean, what do I do? I sit here and sew like my grandmother...
...and kiss my husband goodbye on his way to work.
Have tea with Rock Hudson.
Oh, you know, they are just folks here.
They all got problems same as you and me.
We could debate that.
You take that nice fella, my little neighbor next door.
That fellow may be just a neighbor to you...
...but he shows up in a lot of ladies' dreams.
Well, that is just the point.
Just because he is a star actor, doesn't mean he's happy.
He's always moping around, coming in here for tuna fish.
He has got lots of time to sit home and worry.
- About what? - He's had three wives.
Not one of them worth spit.
He has become far too familiar with drugs...
...some of which he puts up his nose.
Here, just let me find the part about Kent.
Here's the part about- Here, this is the part about Kent.
Well, maybe I- Maybe I better start at the beginning.
Start what?
- What is this? - Well.
Liz, I know this sounds silly but this is a novel.
This whole box.
How wonderful.
Oh, no.
It doesn't have all the commas in place like yours...
...but it is something I feel real serious about.
You know, these folks around here, they come and they sit on this beach.
And it is no different from down home.
They got problems, honey, and they tell them to me.
Because I like to listen.
And then you, you write about them?
Well, I changed all the names.
- Oh, good. - You don't wanna hear this?
Let me read, it's easier.
No, it's such a mess. I better read it.
- The whole thing? - Oh, Liz, would you mind?
Let's just start and see how far we get, okay?
You're gonna hate this but, okay?
Okay.
It's got a title.
It's called A House by the Sea.
You know, to make you think of Malibu.
"This was a first for Laurelle Jordan.
Her first trip to New York, her first visit to the Plaza Hotel.
Being a girl from Dallas, she marched into that hotel drinking room...
...with all the arrogance of T exas money. "
- You're not getting drunk are you? - I'm listening.
"As she sat there fingering the olive in her crystal clear drink...
...she was wearing a hat in the shape of a Stetson.
But this was no cowboy hat. It was made of mink.
The little animals who gave up their lives to make her hat...
...had all come of age in Siberia.
There was the sand at her feet...
...and as many as the grains of that sand...
...were the memories of her years...
...Brad, Elliot, Gerald...
...in and out of her life as the tide that came now to wash at her feet.
'Gone,' seemed to say the lapping tide, all gone.
But her memories and this, her simple house by the sea. "
Was it okay?
Why do they always end up alone?
Who?
Those ladies, in those stories, they always end up alone.
You liked it?
It knocked me out.
Is that good?
The Mona Lisa never knocked me out.
- Do you want some coffee? - Got any more Scotch?
Haven't you had enough?
A nightcap. A morningcap.
I don't want you to tell me any lies, Liz.
Don't worry. I need to get sleep before I can tell a believable lie.
Did you like my book?
How long did it take you to write it?
Oh, almost a year. Let's see...
...I started just after Debby went-
Well, eight months, in the afternoons.
Eight months in the afternoons?
What are you gonna do with it? Get it published?
I was going to ask you.
Go ahead. Ask.
I don't like your tone, Liz.
What is wrong with my tone?
The New York Review of Books said I was a master of irony.
Oh, drink your gin and go to sleep.
You want me to show the book to Jules Levi.
Well, I want you to do whatever you think is right.
Jules Levi is the wrong man for you, Merry.
Why?
T oo much important tailoring. He's like an apple the butler polishes every day.
He's the most impressive publisher in the business.
Let's say he's impressed.
Liz, would you-?
Would you show it to Jules Levi...
...and tell him it not be like some translation from the Russian?
I haven't escaped from the iron curtain or anything...
- ... but I do know what it feels- - T o have feelings.
You know what it feels like to have feelings.
- I suppose. - It is not a supposition.
It is a fact, from the master of irony.
Merry knows what it feels like to have feelings.
That is worth money in the pocket.
But not Jules Levi's pocket.
He doesn't have any pockets.
- T oo much expensive tailoring. - Why not Jules Levi?
Jules Levi is interested in something called serious art. Serious art.
Ask him and he'll tell you.
There are only two markets for serious art: homosexuals and Jews.
- That's an ugly thing to say. - What? Homosexual or Jew?
I could smack your face and not even feel it.
Another gin and I wouldn't either.
What's wrong with me writing a book? Makes you so jealous, huh?
Nothing.
What is wrong with learning to bounce balls on your nose eight months?
Maybe I should learn to bounce balls on my nose. Balls, I should.
I'm too busy writing and rewriting my first hundred pages...
...for that famous apple-polished, impressed and impressive publisher.
He has been waiting years for what they call my second effort.
Do you know what it is to be blocked?
Could you develop a few hang-ups?
Don't you wanna write major art?
And knock them out at the local gay Hadassah?
Why are you all shouting?
Liz is just being a simple bitch, is what we call it down home.
Well, we're not down home. We're way out West.
And quit quoting Atlanta as though it were gospel.
Atlanta has fallen. Haven't you heard?
Sherman has spared us any further wisdom...
...from that quotable capital of the South.
Give us a quote from Paris, France then, Miss Smarty.
Okay.
In Paris in France they had a guy who was, for the record...
...both a homosexual and a Jew.
Who wrote a seven-volume book they continue to refer to as a masterpiece.
Who was such nitro-glycerin in the head...
...that he had to hide out in a cork-lined room...
...or else he'd have gone up in shrapnel.
Proust, Marcel Proust.
He had the good grace to suffer for his art.
And didn't push aside the tuna fish sandwiches...
...on his Formica kitchen table to write it.
Has anybody slept around here?
Liz Hamilton, it is my duty to remind you of a promise...
...you extracted from me early in our careers in college.
You made me promise to tell you if you ever went too far...
...and were in danger of hurting me.
Well, you are too far right now. Apologize.
I apologize.
Tell her I apologize for a basic lack of honesty.
You have been lying.
Not yet. I would only be lying if I let you believe...
...it was merely Scotch or gin that are making me do what I am about to do.
What are you about to do?
Vomit.
She liked my book.
Don't worry, I'll get some sleep on the plane, I guess.
Oh, give these back to Merry.
And, tell her, thank you.
I wish I understood you two.
Why should you know the secret? We don't.
Thank you.
I'm just sorry.
Why? You've been behaving like a normal human being.
I'm sorry you don't live around here.
You are?
It'd be nice for Merry having a friend.
Oh, some friend.
You're okay.
Bye, Doug.
Thanks.
- Airlines, flight 174...
...for St. Louis and Houston...
...will depart from gate 30.
Are you not drinking?
Not this trip, thanks.
I don't think she's drinking.
A little wine. That doesn't count.
- Well, don't blame me. - No, you are blameless.
Thanks.
It was hard at first. Sure, it's an adjustment.
I can't imagine.
It must be really horrible in its way.
For example, I've never been able to take this off.
How old was she?
If you don't mind saying?
Twenty-nine.
I'm just two years older.
Any kids?
No. Thank God for that.
You ever known a guy-?
Have you ever known a guy who loved you so much...
...that he'd run up the stairs because he couldn't wait for the elevator?
You ran up the stairs for your wife?
Sometimes.
I've never lived in an elevator building.
It can be nice.
What?
Would you like one last drink before our approach to Kennedy?
Kennedy?
No. Thank you.
Oh, excuse me.
Sorry.
Oh, sorry.
The captain has turned on the no smoking sign in preparation...
...for our landing at Kennedy.
We ask at this time that you return to your seats...
...and extinguish all smoking materials.
At this time we would like to request that you put your seatbacks...
...in full upright position, make sure all carry-on luggage...
...is securely under your seat.
The sound you hear is the landing gear locking into place...
...and is a normal part of our flight.
The sound you hear is the captain reversing engines...
...to retard our forward motion and is a normal part of our procedure.
On behalf of Captain Price and the entire flight crew...
...we want to welcome you to the New York area...
...and to thank you for flying TWA.
We hope your trip has been pleasurable.
I work in the city and maybe we could-
You know, I don't even know your last name.
Max, some things are perfect just as they are.
- Well, what if I give you my number? - Well...
Daddy, Daddy.
Max, darling. Max, thank God. I thought we missed you, honey.
The kids fought all the way down the Saw Mill River Parkway.
I wanted to surprise you...
...but it wouldn't have been much of a surprise if we'd missed you.
- Can I help you? - Oh, no, no. No, thanks.
I've been helped quite enough for one day.
Come on, let's go. I made this wonderful dinner.
You're just gonna love it.
Jules.
Welcome home, dove. That is a tan.
Most New Yorkers never get out of the Polo Lounge out there.
- I passed out on the beach a lot. - Five years.
I've always had to call you.
I felt like a rejected suitor. At last you call me.
With your manuscript. Unbelievable.
Not quite.
- What are you drinking? - Scotch and water.
Another martini for you, Mr. Levi?
When a writer calls her publisher, it's usually love or money.
- They're out of one or the other. - Well, Jules it's neither.
- You have some money left? - Yeah.
You're not in love?
No, I've lost my resilience in that department.
How do you mean?
Well, my trust, which at best has always been minimal, is now entirely gone.
Nothing ventured.
I've never found anyone to compare with you, Jules.
What's wrong with the original? Try him, terrific.
- Sarah says so. - Sarah who?
Your wife, Sarah.
I don't know why so many attractive ladies are more concerned...
...about my wife's feelings than mine. Your novel.
This isn't mine.
I thought you said you were closing in on it, on the finish?
I am closing in on it. But-
Since I came back, I've been possessed with work.
- A couple hours a day I'm possessed. - Then, what is this?
This is by a friend.
My oldest friend. Truly a friend. I think it has potential.
Give it to Allan for a read.
No, I want you to read it as a favor.
What's it about?
Feelings.
What kind of feelings?
The kind of feelings they have in Malibu.
Malibu.
Just because I'm from the South, every time I open my mouth...
...some Yankee thinks I sound stupid.
Why? Because of the accent? Well, I don't care.
I'm not gonna curl up like some salted slug.
I'm proud to be from Atlanta.
I read Gone With the Wind twice a year.
Twice a year, when Merry Noel Blake takes down Margaret Mitchell's...
...phenomenal bestseller to read, it's not just to be reminded of home.
She may be comparing royalties.
Ever since her first book...
...A House by the Sea, went through Hollywood like a cannon shot...
...mowing down about half the film colony with its deadly expos�...
...she has established herself as more than a writer.
This prolific woman, with five torrid bestsellers, one after the other...
...has become a, kind of, publishing institution.
But at what a cost.
I've always loved Merry. She's a good kid.
You don't feel that there's a slightly altered portrait of you then, in her book?
Now, do I look like the kind of a guy that- Teenage girls?
I mean, once in a while, some poor schnook could get carried away.
But, I mean, with all of the daughters of all of his...
...friends? Including the daughter of the studio head?
God, somebody's gotta be a fruitcake to do that.
It's not true then that your attorney is bringing suit against her?
Nah, I'm sorry to see Merry move out of the colony.
We should mention, that's the Malibu Colony.
And that's where the first novel is set.
Why did she leave Malibu?
I don t know. Some guy set fire to her car.
It's hard to imagine that the stately pyramids along the Nile...
...or the sphinx with its mysterious smile, could have-
You' re gonna miss this.
It's a rerun. You've seen it once.
Make me one too.
What do you want?
Half of whatever you' re drinking.
- that you use a nom de plume.
I was a Christmas surprise to my mama so she named me Merry Noel...
...you know, M-E-R-R- Y.
All the folks down home call me Merry Noel to this day.
In her second book, Cleo...
...Merry Blake imagines a modern day Cleopatra, who comes to America...
...and falls in love, and in fact, into bed, with a chief executive...
- ... who looks like our own Gerald Ford. - There's your half.
- Do you wanna go to New Y ork? - Nope.
I'm booked on to The Merv Griffin Show.
- What would I do? - What do you do here?
I'm sorry.
I know how you like to affix blame...
...but I did not close down the project. The lab did.
I said, I'm sorry.
Sometimes words just slide out of my mouth.
Like a snake out of its hole.
Home Cookin '.
You like it?
That's it. That's the title.
Home Cookin '.
It's gonna be about Mama.
I keep trying to remember why it was she kept going off to see Papa.
She had been married three more times...
...and she was living with her third husband.
And she snuck off to a motel to see Papa.
She was 60.
My God, she was driven.
- I wonder. - What?
She must have loved Papa.
You never recover from the first person you fall in love with.
- Doug, you know that? - No.
- Well, you said it. - Liz told me.
- You and Liz talked about love? - We did.
- When? - Some years ago.
Doug, honey, Doug, could you excuse me one minute? Just a second.
I'll be right back. Hon, I'll be right back.
You just- I'll be right back.
One second, okay? I've just gotta-
Dougy.
I'm sorry.
Doug-bug?
- I thought you wanted to-? - I finished.
Without me?
I only feel, Merv, that you can only be honest when you do something.
You have to do it, speak from the heart...
...you have to tell it like it is. That's how I feel.
- You have a daughter, don't you? - I do, yes, I do, she's 14.
I wonder, Merry Noel, what advice you give her about boys?
Oh, well, I just tell her what my mama told me.
I just tell her, if you think too much about boys...
...you get on the back of a horse.
Quite a philosopher, your mama.
She was, yes.
Did you do a lot of horseback riding as a youngster?
Oh, no, I didn't Merv. I don't like horses.
They're so big, but I like jockeys.
Do you?
You're early.
Hi, Doug.
- You're not at The Merv Griffin Show? - I stepped out for a drink.
- I was about to have one myself. - Me too.
I thought you were sticking with Merry.
She can never find her way down here.
She can figure out how to find a local bookstore in Satsuma, Florida.
I'm not worried.
I haven't figured out whether I like you better drunk or sober.
No Scotch?
Next to the typewriter.
I forgot the literary process.
You're almost right.
I was having drinks with a novelist.
That is literary, isn't it?
The novelist? Are you still seeing him?
- No. - His wife came back into the picture?
- No. - You're not talking?
If there was something to talk about.
Poor Liz.
I finally figured out after three, what is it...
...three and a half, on-again off-again years...
...that my friend Paul essentially considers me an interruption.
T o his otherwise important thoughts.
Poor Liz.
Don't worry. I took his best years.
Please God, don't let me burn that bird.
All the times we've been back here, I've never seen you in the kitchen.
I don't go in the kitchen. The roaches talk about me.
I'm thinking about moving back here.
I'm not afraid of cockroaches.
You're kidding?
They run when I turn on the light. They're afraid of me.
I mean about moving back here.
There's an opening at the Rockefeller Institute. I'm going in to see them.
- Does Merry want to live in New York? - I don't know. I never asked her.
- Well, don't you think you should? - Liz.
I have this fantasy that if I work back here I can come by.
- You can incinerate a bird. - Where is Merry going to be?
- She can fly in between books. - Oh, yeah.
That's what she does, flies in between books.
- Naughty. - Hey, I can cook.
Did I tell you? I used to read Gourmet Magazine.
Let me ask you something-
I'm thinking, if I get a place back here...
...I can cook duck or cherries jubilee.
- That sounds fun. - And invite you.
You're thinking, you can move away from Merry...
...between books and invite her oldest friend over for duck?
And cherries jubilee.
And then what?
- Where does your fantasy go from there? - I told you way back in college...
...when I started going with Merry, if there ever came a time-
You promised you'd never mention that again.
I lied.
That's Merry, Doug.
Doug.
The limousine driver had no idea where Minetta Lane was.
He had to stop and ask a cab.
I got so darn angry I took the cab...
...and then that damn fool couldn't even find the Village.
Goddamn it. I see you found your way down here.
- Liz has some wonderful Scotch. - You want a drink, Merry?
I don't. He doesn't. Why do you give him liquor?
She also sacrificed a chicken.
Great, great. You're drunk. That's just great.
- I'll get it. - No, I got it.
- I'll get it. - Goddamn it.
Well, I took a Dexamyl and cleaned house today.
You did all this in one day?
Oh, the dexie did it. I just watched.
Good night.
- Where are you going? - Back to the hotel.
- Why? - I've got an interview tomorrow.
I wanna go and drink myself to sleep. Alone.
Do you have any idea how far away you are...
- ... from sleeping on park benches? - Come on, Merry.
I wish you weren't always ready with a Scotch...
...and a back scratch for poor Doug.
"Poor Doug" likes his back scratched.
It is, I am told, the spirits of affection...
...and not the distillery that comfort the soul.
- Brother! - Could you please help in that?
This is not Bellevue.
I do not accept responsibility for the toxic level of my guests.
You cannot imagine what it's been like...
...since he drank himself out of his job.
Bullshit. I never drank to do my job at the lab.
I only drink to perform my job as husband.
Then you better bring a bottle to bed next time.
- Let's say we eat. - Blame me, goddamn it...
...it's clear he blames me for what turns out to be...
...to my everlasting surprise, something missing in his character.
What's missing are a few intimate parts of my anatomy.
Disgusting.
I do blame myself because if I hadn't offered them up...
...you'd never have sliced them off.
- I wish I had something to slice you up. - Get your hand off my tie.
How very stupid.
It's a scene from one of your books.
That ain't stupid. It's just trash.
- Trash? - Trash.
You said trash?
- Trash. - Successful trash.
You're goddamn right.
You put together enough trash, you get major garbage.
Trash.
Trash, my ass!
Liz.
Doug.
Hi, Doug.
I had the interview. And it wasn't right.
Really. I'm sorry.
It was probably best. I'm going down to Houston.
There's a NASA position that sounds right.
That means I'll live in Texas. Assuming-
- You're serious about this with Merry. - Yes.
I gave her 15 years. You can't say that I wasn't serious.
Aren't you gonna tell her?
We talked it out, we shouted it out, last night.
- No, about Texas. - Will you tell her?
- Is that why you asked me here? - No.
No, Doug. Don't start any more of this fantasy business.
Why don't you let me be your friend?
You are my friend.
Close friend. You need a close friend.
You and Merry are both my close friends.
You know what the end of my fantasy is?
- No, Doug. - Merry divorces me.
- Please. - You forget about being her friend.
- Stop. - Hey, look at me.
And you marry me.
Doug, you're scaring the shit out of me.
Doug.
- What is it? - You told her you were meeting me?
Doug.
- I had to. - Why?
Fifteen years.
Don't you want me to tell her something?
Yeah.
Tell her goodbye.
Doug.
Doug, wait.
Doug.
- Doug. - He's gone, Merry.
- Gone where? - He's gone to Texas.
- Texas? - A job interview in Texas.
Did you tell him I forgive everything he said?
He doesn't wanna talk, he's leaving, he's left.
- Left what? - He's left the marriage.
He said you all talked it out.
Stupid man. He said stupid things.
Well, go get him. Go.
Did he say anything more?
He said, goodbye.
Goodbye?
- Goodbye. - That's it?
What-?
What am I gonna do?
You're gonna miss him, terribly.
Oh, no, I don't want to.
I hate to be unhappy.
You are making me unhappy and I'm gonna hate you for it.
I'm gonna hate you, Doug.
I hate you.
- I hate Texas. - Merry.
Oh, Liz, we were a good marriage.
Everyone said so.
I don't mean just the magazines. I mean, our friends, everyone.
Didn't you think we were happy?
Now what are they going to say?
What can they say?
Just something more that was happy, gone to waste.
It's the times.
What ugly times we live in.
Another broken home.
I never wanted to be a statistic.
Make a new life, isn't that what abandoned ladies always do?
Well, to hell with that.
I'm just gonna keep the same life with just a piece missing.
I'll just break off a piece.
I got my career.
I got my daughter.
I got you, my friend.
Liz, you'll be my friend, won't you?
That's a stupid question.
We'll just be old friends like always, huh?
Old friends. Of course.
Hello. Sorry.
Liz is late. Take a little off her vote, huh?
I've forgotten how long it takes to get around in this city.
How are the ducks and the pigs?
I have a mill pond. It's for mills, not for ducks.
I'd be damned if I'd live in Connecticut without something that said "moo. "
- Ducks and pigs don't go "moo. " - See what I know?
If I can get down to what is called serious business.
- Where'd they put you up? - The Algonquin.
- which I must read.
Martha, you have every good intention...
...we know, but you're not gonna read the rules.
- We know the rules. - It is not my intention to bore you.
Then don't.
Sorry.
We have until December 31 st to make the announcement...
...of the best of American fiction for the year.
- All of you, as previous winners- - She's going to do it.
I have a question. One of the titles we've been considering...
...is Merry Blake's Home Cookin '.
It's already getting some remarkable press.
That woman has ground out sausage for 10 years...
...and suddenly a book comes out.
That woman is a friend of mine.
It's not your fault she wrote something good.
- Even old Dr. No likes it. - Who?
Hennings. Didn't you see his piece in the Sunday Times?
- No, what? - Enough. Please.
He said, "At last she has written from the heart...
...and decided to bypass the obstruction of her brain. "
Funny.
I wanna register with you, if you feel I should disqualify myself.
If anyone should disqualify himself, it should be me.
What do you mean, Martin?
Well, you know, about me and Anita Turner.
No.
Her book is all about me, for chrissake.
Now, what does that mean?
Oh, Martin, be a big boy.
You be a big boy.
I just wanted you all to be warned.
My old friend Merry has taken the floor of a hotel...
...and she intends to lobby this entire city for this award.
She's got Jules Levi lined up to throw a series of what she calls...
...opinion-forming parties.
Well, we're the only three who can be impressed by such tactics.
That is a cold statement of truth.
When the National Writers' Award was first formed...
...it was the intention of the charter-
1218, please.
Thanks.
Merry, Merry, Merry, Merry.
A messenger brought this for you.
The National Writers' Award.
- And this. - Books, great.
- And there's a man waiting to see you. - Who?
- Mr. Adams. - Who's that?
Christopher Adams.
He's over there, next to the column.
Oh, okay.
Mr. Adams?
- No. I'm sorry. - You're not Christopher Adams?
- No, I'm not. - I am.
Hi. Chris Adams.
Liz Hamilton.
You wanna do it down here or go to your room?
- Do what? - You don't remember our appointment?
- No, I don't remember our appointment. - Well, that's okay.
It's better than okay, it's terrific. Nice meeting you.
Would you like a bellboy for these, Miss Hamilton?
I got them.
Are you a messenger from the Writers' Award?
- I'm from the Stone. - The what?
Rolling Stone. We have an interview.
Chris. Chris Adams. Rolling Stone-
God, I'm sorry.
I'm also sorry I can't possibly do it. I've gotta read all these. Sorry.
Well, I'll carry them up for you.
Come in.
- Where do you want this? - Over here.
I'll just be a minute.
Give me room service please.
Oh, don't put that on yet.
- What do you want to drink? - I don't drink.
- You don't want a soft drink? - No.
This is room 1218.
I'd like a Scotch, please. And a water to back it up.
Oh, no, give me double, thank you.
Somebody left grass around. Maybe you'd prefer that?
No.
Funny.
When they said someone from the Stone was coming...
...I imagined a satin jumpsuit...
...and two coke spoons coming out of your nose.
I don't have to use this at all, if you don't want.
Well, how long is this gonna take?
Whatever you want.
You don't wanna talk now, you can call me later. I'm at the Chelsea.
Since when would I want?
I mean, you guys.
How old are you, may I ask?
Twenty-two.
Well, you're more like 12.
If you say.
I don't really understand why the interview.
Why?
Yeah.
Why me? Why the Stone? Why me, for the Stone?
- It was my idea. - Yeah?
Yeah.
Perhaps you could break the language barrier...
...and let me know what this is all about.
- There's a language barrier? - I always thought this was a joke...
...you know, about your publication.
The utterances of those who can't speak...
...written by those who cannot write...
- ... for those who cannot read. - I used that.
You did?
In one of my interviews.
Well, you see.
After your second novel, it was my idea to do a piece on you.
There's no one that fits in right where you do.
The magazine wanted a woman in the arts.
There were others with more visibility but I wanted you.
You have political anger. But reason keeps it cool.
Especially in your small magazine pieces.
Your fiction, there's passion right there.
But again, within the parameters of taste.
Or maybe it's art, not taste, you'll tell me.
More than any other woman with a public profile, I respect you.
Well, turn it on and maybe we'll get started.
No, it's Scotch.
- Oh, Debby. - Hi, Aunt Liz.
- Hi. - Hi.
This is my favorite niece.
More or less my niece, daughter of a friend.
Her name is Debby. This is Chris from Rolling Stone.
- Hi. Mom didn't call here did she? - Four times.
What'd she say?
I don't know. I just got the messages.
I can tell you right now, she's going to be opposed to my moving in here.
She is? Well, so am I.
There's only room here for me, and the ghost of Dorothy Parker.
I'm not really, I've just gotta get out of that hotel.
So I can stay at Ginger's. She hates Ginger.
Well, who's she?
Ginger Trinidad. He's this terrific Puerto Rican poet.
You've heard of him.
He started writing poetry in the Tombs, you know, the New York jail.
- What was he doing there? - I don't know.
It was in TIME magazine.
He robbed some liquor stores or something.
But it was politically motivated.
Well, apart from a few minor details...
...I don't know what your mother has against him.
Well, we're making it, that's what.
She's got some weird idea I should save myself for an astronaut or something.
The Scotch.
Do you ever answer your phone?
I have been too busy answering the door.
- This is Chris Adams. - How do you do? I see you're here.
- He's from the press. - Oh, how interesting.
- Which publication do you write for? - Rolling Stone.
I've just been trying to find out one little piece of information...
- ... about what went on today? - You mean about-
- I guess you mean about- - You know I can't talk about it.
- What did they say? - They liked your book.
That much I can say.
- How much? - Oh, Jesus.
Please, God.
Hi, there. Is Debby here?
- You must be Ginger. - Yeah. You the mother?
She's the mother. I'm the aunt. Come in.
Thank you.
- Hi, honey. - Hi, Ginger.
- How you doing? - Fine.
- Ready to go? - Please.
- Good. - Just one moment.
Please, young lady.
I know, maybe you don't like me too much.
Not like you? I have no reason to dislike you.
It's just a question of my liking my daughter more.
Perhaps too much, but then again, she is my daughter.
Maybe you don't like Puerto Ricans. Is that it?
It has nothing to do with being a Puerto Rican.
You could have skin whiter than apple blossoms.
As long as there's lingering respect...
...from my daughter that she'll consider my opinion...
...I would prefer that she not race about the streets of this dangerous city...
- ... with the criminal element. - Let's go, Ginger.
- Nice meeting you all. - Ginger.
Debby!
You. Darling, Aunt Liz.
After whom my daughter chooses to model her most formative years.
I've ordered a double, you can have half. Save your speech until then.
You consider it adventuresome, her affair with a car thief.
- He stole a car? - He's addicted to the practice.
Maybe he can get me a Mercedes.
Debby would roar over that cynical humor.
Would you get off it?
- I've been keeping this fellow- - I don't mind.
- I mind. - I'll go.
- I'll go. Just give me one simple word. - What simple word?
Am I or am I not wasting my time...
...and considerable amount of money back here...
...or am I going to win the National Writers' Award?
Well, there are two simple words.
Yes and no.
- That's all for now? - That is all for now.
Okay.
Don't forget.
Dinner Friday night at Jules'.
I can't, Merry. I've gotta go up to Connecticut for at least the weekend...
- ... with around 200 books. - All right.
Well, there's another Tuesday night at my place.
- I'll try. - Please.
And find someone nice to bring.
Can we do this later?
You know what you need?
You know what I need?
You need to relax.
What do you mean?
Relax? Relax means relax.
You mean, I need someone to relax me?
You think I need someone to relax me? T o come over here and relax me?
I didn't mention someone, no.
- Oh, you were gonna do it? - Do what?
There's an arrogance about men, sometimes.
Maybe you haven't noticed, not being yet a man yourself.
- Are you okay? - Do I sound okay?
Look, all I meant was you should get some rest.
If you wanna get some rest with someone, that's up to you.
If I wanna get movement in bed I'll check into a motel...
...and drop a quarter in the vibrating mattress.
I'm at the Chelsea when you wanna do this.
I'm wrong. It is the young men who are the most arrogant.
When it comes to arrogance in sexual matters...
...they assume everyone is falling down over them.
Put that on. I have a quote.
I find this mid-century obsession with young flesh obscene.
It's like eating green cantaloupes.
Okay. Goodbye.
- Is that for 1218? - Yes, ma'am.
Great.
Wait.
Thanks. Down, please.
Excuse me, could you tell me where Cartier's is?
Yes. It's just up there on the other side of the street.
Near those flags?
Yeah.
It's up there.
This thing doesn't fit.
It's supposed to be a bracelet.
It'd be fine, if I wanted a necklace.
Is it a gift from your mother?
No. My mother lives in Redlands, California.
Are you Mrs. Collins?
No.
East 71 st Street?
No.
At one time, almost every important literary figure in New Y ork came here.
Over there where you see the restaurant area...
...they had a weekly luncheon called the round table.
With writers like Robert Benchley, George Kaufman, Edna Ferber.
Thank you, Jim, for walking me all the way down here.
You do a lot of smiling.
How old are you?
Eighteen.
Who is Mrs. Collins?
My problem is, I'm truly an old-fashioned girl.
I like men who talk. I love to talk.
There's a whole generation crowding up behind us...
...of people who wanna talk with their bodies.
Christ, everyone is so muscular and chic.
Their tits spilling out all over the place, soft fashions.
We've got a generation of beauties. They're more beautiful than the Greeks.
But what happened to the articulate guy?
I mean, nobody wants to talk anymore.
You don't have to be hard on me.
- I'm just listening. - Listening is an obscenely intimate act.
- It laughs. - Well, you said something funny.
I don't talk to everyone. I don't make love to every woman I meet, either.
Maybe you should catch up with your peers.
I'll agree with your point. A way to approach a woman is through the ears.
Ears, you know. They're little emblems of sexuality.
I'm listening to you through little emblems of sexuality.
I'm not ready to concede that the young aren't more sexually arrogant...
...though, and this is important...
...I have been recently led to believe...
...that they might have something to be arrogant about.
Namely...
...endurance and bodies.
My old friend Bessie Smith...
...whose records shared many an afternoon with me in Paris said...
...she liked it when her daddy took her for a buggy ride.
What I like about you is you never stall.
How about you, kid?
I never preferred it with girls my age.
I was about to make you, Christopher Adams...
...the lead character of my new book, Young Flesh.
Why not with girls your own age?
They're always watching for their own orgasm.
What should they be watching for? Your orgasm?
Our orgasm.
I suppose if I talk fast enough and stay up all night...
...I could tell you my life story before I get on the train in the morning.
I'll drive you.
- Connecticut? - Why not? I got a license.
Well, for one thing, I've got to read all those books.
If you give me a minute, I'm sure there's another reason.
Pick you up at 10.
- All right? - Okay.
Night.
Good night.
Oh, it's so great.
- Isn't it terrific? - Yeah.
- I'll get the bags later. - Okay.
Here, here, here, I'll help you.
Thanks.
Watch out, it's slick there.
Hang on, I'll just get the key.
Thank you.
Let me look at you.
Put this on, put this on.
All right, one more.
- That's enough. That's enough. - One more.
I don't like this.
- Why don't you like this? - Because I don't like parties.
- Ginger, you need these people. - I don't need-
- Hello, how are you? - Hi.
- This is Ginger Trinidad. - Hi.
- Francis, how are you? - Francis.
Hello, hello.
- How are you? - Oh, Merry Noel. You're a beauty.
I won't be for long if Jules doesn't give me some rest.
It's party, party, party.
Excuse me.
You are late. But I barely forgive you.
- And your young friend. - Jules.
Hi, Liz.
My girls.
This is Christopher Adams.
- How do you do? - Fine.
Thank you very much.
Merry.
I do not believe it.
It's true.
You are in love.
You sly, old land turtle.
He's-
He's so young.
God, I'm sick.
You see, I'll invite just anyone.
Is this just anyone?
I could not believe your review.
I thought Southern boys were taught nicer manners than that.
I bet your mama won't let you say at home what you say in print.
Merry Noel, are you trying to charm me?
Oh, I'd imagine that's beyond the realm of possibility.
Yeats was an absolute madman.
He and his wife used to sit around listening for voices...
...to tell him how to write.
Once he heard an owl bark, and it threw him off for days.
Oh, but what he wrote.
God, the Irish.
But one man loved The pilgrim soul in you
And loved the sorrows Of your changing face
I've had this great revelation.
That it's all right.
You know?
No.
It.
It's all right. Us.
I mean...
...it's all right for me.
Oh, it's all right to be in love?
Look, I've the right to let me say it.
That's what I mean...
...in love.
To be in love.
Does sex confuse you?
No.
I don't mean how to do it, though that can be enormously confusing at times.
I just mean the question of sex.
I went to this therapist one summer.
He had this insane notion that's probably true...
...that I had to wait to be emotionally mauled by some guy before I can write.
He also said...
...that I take surrogate lovers.
T o wit, I am aroused by object A.
I go out and go to bed with object B.
With you, I feel like I'm making love to object A.
Did you ever think that what makes sex so exciting is that it's so frightening?
Is that what you think? Do I frighten you?
It's like T. S. Eliot. He made this crack about D. H. Lawrence.
He said Lawrence was looking for an intimacy...
...that was impossible between a man and a woman.
Well, I say bullshit, T. S. Eliot.
See, Eliot was just scared.
And there was Lawrence like some sexual test pilot, ready to take the dive.
You understand?
Oh, you intellectuals are too much for me.
What is everybody afraid of?
Chances? Risk? Commitment?
Those are the popular words but, God, they don't measure up to the old words.
Lovesick, heartfelt, with this hand...
...sickness and health, death do us part.
Those are sensational.
You can't hear them without ladies weeping.
What do men do?
Don't they weep?
Well, different style. They've got little hairs that stand up in a lot of places.
Are your little hairs standing up?
Those words, love, honor.
I'd love to be able to use them, you know.
I mean, I'd love to believe in someone, some one woman so much...
...that I could believe those words...
...and they'd just come jumping out of my mouth.
What did you mean, some one girl?
- Isn't a woman too old for you? - God, you're hard.
I'm like T. S., I'm scared.
I mean, I'd like to say to you I wanna get married.
But you'd bitch, you'd laugh.
No, I wouldn't.
Who do you wanna marry?
Do you know how many times I've asked someone to marry me in my life?
Think about it.
Oh, it's you.
That fact doesn't thrill me either.
Debby doesn't come in. She doesn't call. I'm giving up on her.
She's 18, and in this state, that's old enough for a martini.
This Brahms you recommended is crippling my fingers.
Didn't he write that lullaby, that Brahms-? "Brahms' Lullaby"?
I guess, he must have. It's got his name on it.
What do you think?
Perfect.
No, I mean, the whole picture.
Self-sufficient woman, a woman of proven talents...
...sitting by the fire, playing her piano.
Is a reporter coming?
Oh, hardly.
A man.
He likes lullabies?
Oh, may I?
Doug called. He's in New York.
Doug Blake?
He's tanned and successful, up from Houston. That's what he says.
He would've come over, but it's business, business.
- When's he coming? - Tomorrow.
Give him my love. He's a wonderful man.
He's got something very obvious in mind. I know it.
I'm willing to stake my life on it.
He wants the marriage back.
It's only been four years. That's not long.
They say it takes you five years for your mattress to lose its imprint.
We're still imprinted on each other.
Let me look at you.
- I've lost. - What?
That's why you look like you're standing on your own udder.
Oh, Merry, please.
They took a vote, I've lost. And you can't tell me.
- What is today's date? - I'm not a child.
Today's date is December 30th.
The final vote is December 31 st, as promised.
Oh, Liz, I've been dreaming about my party.
Right at the stroke of midnight, New Year's.
I announce the victory of my book and the rejoining of my marriage.
How can you be so sure?
- Of what? - Either.
I'm having tables all along here...
...just spilling over with whatever grows this time of year.
The trouble with December is there's no strawberries.
How am I gonna create a big red area in the center of the table?
Stab one of the guests.
Liz, if all you want is to be unhappy, I just wish you'd let me be.
I'm sorry, but those are my thoughts.
I'm sorry.
I didn't mean to make you unhappy.
Give my love to Doug. I meant what I said.
He's a wonderful guy.
You know, you two are the only thing I ever admired.
A marriage...
...a real child and you loved each other.
I'm fine, really.
I wanna know what's going on with you.
Tomorrow, Merry, tomorrow.
Merry, go back inside. You'll die out here. I'll call you later.
Can you lend me your coat for a second? Just for a second, okay?
- Yes, ma'am. I'll wait inside. - Okay, thank you.
Liz.
You are so determined.
If you're going through all this worry just because of me and that prize.
No.
Your writing?
Please, no.
Rolling Stone?
His name is Chris Adams.
That's what it is.
He wants to marry me.
That boy?
That's what I said.
He proposed?
Yes.
To this mature woman.
I do not believe that.
That's my problem too.
Do you think he's serious?
- He says he is. - What do you think?
I said no.
What do you feel?
I don't want anyone around watching my thighs grow old.
You are such a big, bad bear at times, you only scare yourself.
Well-
I mean, how long could it last?
It's insane.
- A year. - You see?
Or two, maybe three. From there, there might be a fourth.
What are you saying?
There's no guarantees.
If that man says he wants you...
...you let him stick around until your thighs turn to stone.
What the shit difference does it make?
Why didn't you say this in the beginning?
Well, honey, we're not talking about a new dress here, this takes a moment.
1218, any messages?
No messages.
Oh, thanks.
Courthouse? Which courthouse?
Is he on a story?
Yes, please. Tell him I'm at the hotel. I'm eating in.
Thank you.
Hello.
Oh, Debby, it's you.
Look, your mother's looking for you.
And I'm trying to keep off this line. I'm expecting a call.
What? He's with you?
Yeah, Chris is here. He's been terrific. He's in talking to the judge now.
- Is he in trouble? - No.
No, not him. It's Ginger.
They arrested Ginger for parole violation, carrying a weapon.
It wasn't even for real. It was a real gun and everything...
...but he was using it to see how people would respond.
He's starting a new novel.
Why didn't you call me?
I was. I was trying to reach you. You weren't in.
So I called the Chelsea and I asked for Chris, thinking you'd be there.
No way was I calling my mom and getting the daughter of Dracula.
Debby, could you please put Chris on?
He can't, no. He's in there with Ginger and the judge.
Okay, sure. As soon as he can.
Okay.
Wait.
555-9970, please.
Room 2-1-8.
What?
No, this is a friend.
You must.
They say?
They said they don't want to be disturbed?
Liz. Liz.
I'm having lunch uptown with Doug.
Well, I'm going downtown.
Oh, we'll go downtown. Go downtown.
Well?
I thought we can have this conversation later over a drink.
I lost.
- Not exactly. - I won.
- Not exactly. - Well, what in God's earth-?
It was a dead heat.
A split prize?
Well, not really. It was decided that...
...two people should win first prize.
You...
...and Sharon Gay.
Sharon?
Both books are in what they call the American grain.
- The coming of age of rural America- - I know the American grain.
Hers is the black woman's point of view. Yours, the white.
Sharon Gay.
Merry, both are excellent choices.
If they had the guts, they'd have given it to the black.
What is that?
They obviously wanted to give it to Sharon.
The reviews have been licking her feet.
You were on the jury, they had to toss you a bone.
Goddamn it, your book is legitimately good and so is Sharon's.
I'm a son of a bitch if I'm gonna explain.
You didn't have to share the award.
They gave it all to you. Blue Ribbon.
It may come as a surprise, but we did not write the same book.
Meaning mine is worse than yours?
Meaning I am sick and fucking tired...
...of you trying to live your life through my skin.
If I had your skin, I'd take better care of it.
That is truly amusing.
Oh, you stop it.
I'm angry and I want you to be angry too.
- I'm getting out of the car. - I always wanted to write.
Ever since I was 8 and I started my first diary.
It had nothing to do with you.
Merry, be honest.
If I had become a glider pilot, you'd be behind the wheel of a 747 by now.
Driver, can you drop me here, please?
Taxi.
How are you?
Wiped out.
I was worried, this jail business and all.
I had about three hours' sleep.
Did you get Ginger out?
They're holding him for 60 days. Parole violation.
Debby must be heartbroken.
- I guess. - Where is she?
I guess she's still asleep.
Merry didn't mention she was back.
- Back where? - Back at her mother's hotel.
She's not there.
- Then where is she sleeping? - My room.
Your room.
On the couch.
- How odd. - What?
She could have come to my hotel, I have a couch.
She was going to her mom's but you know how that is.
No. How is that, Chris?
- Are you upset? - I'm upset for Debby.
All alone and no place to go.
Chelsea must be booked up or she wouldn't impose on you.
- You know Chelsea's not booked. - How do I know?
- I haven't checked the books in days. - Christ, I didn't wanna tell you this.
Tell me about what? Something I shouldn't know?
No, I knew you'd get carried away.
Never been calmer. It's you who's gone all emotional.
Sudden compassion for runaway teenagers.
- Or do you consider them as peers? - Stop it, please.
Why couldn't you receive calls? What was all that about?
Debby and her mom were having fights and she kept calling back.
What if it had been me?
Why am I on the defensive?
I'm trying to say that...
...I've been sleepless all night, reconsidering your proposals.
You remember, your many proposals.
- Your many insistent proposals- - Stop!
You said no. We don't have to beat it to death.
- I'm sorry. - All I said was I wanted to marry you.
You didn't have to be so goddamn hostile.
Well, then, be man enough to end the hostilities.
Hostilities end when one side surrenders.
Is that what you think marriage is? A surrender?
Who the fuck is talking about marriage?
You were. Until you opened a youth hostel.
Can I join you guys?
I guess not, huh?
- I'm sorry, hon, it's not really- - No, no. No problem.
I better go call Mom and tell her what's going on, anyway.
I'll call you later. And thank you, really...
...for saving my life.
Bye, Aunt Liz.
Bye, baby.
I'm going on the road with Fleetwood Mac.
I'm doing an interview.
Debby's going with me as my assistant.
It was in the budget and the guy I was-
Debby's been wanting to get away from home. I think that's good.
- Yeah. - Truly.
It's better than good. It's fantastic.
Yeah?
- Do me a favor? - What?
Don't say we're gonna be friends.
We're inappropriate as friends.
- If I can't have you as a lover, I- - What makes you so sure?
Well, we have to agree about one thing.
That in some ways I'm more mature than you.
I've seen some endings.
This is one.
I wanted something from you.
I know.
- You made me really furious. - I know.
Do me another favor.
Let's forget about the interview.
I don't wanna read it.
We've written something sensational together.
But it's a private edition. Let's not make it public.
You talk some good talk, you know.
Like my old friend Yeats said:
When you're old and gray And nodding by the fire
You can take down that book And slowly read
Are you leaving?
I'm going to Connecticut.
What about my party?
I'm sorry. I was gonna call.
I'm so down, I'd just spoil it.
I think we have come to a serious juncture in our lives...
...when we should examine the terms of our friendship.
Hold this.
Thanks.
Merry, I'm truly sorry about the award...
...but it's not the worst thing that could happen. There'll be lots of publicity.
That is water long under the bridge.
- How was Doug? - Even longer under the bridge.
- Is he still drinking? - Dry as the Sahara.
How does he look?
He's getting married.
- Not to-? - Joyce.
From Houston.
Poor Merry.
What a day you are having.
They've bought a house with a yard.
- Sounds wonderful to me. - Oh, since when?
I'm not immune to the attractions of a man and a yard.
Or to Doug specifically? Doug and a yard?
I never thought of it.
- Never thought of Doug as a husband? - Never.
Along with his ability to drink, he has lost his ability to lie.
- Don't you look away from me. - I'm closing my suitcase.
I began to smell there was something he didn't wanna say.
I bought him a drink and it all came tumbling out.
You bought him a drink?
What a petty, disgusting confession it was.
Me, the unsuspecting wife...
...blaming myself over the years as I sensed my husband...
...slowly but surely slipping away from me.
Those don't sound like Doug's words.
Isn't it true that all the time he was married to me...
...he was pouring out his love for you?
- He mentioned it. - While married to me?
- At the last. - And he proposed?
Merry, I said no.
Oh, because of your friendship with me?
At least you got that right.
Except for that strange lapse into morality you would have taken him?
He sure deserved better than he was getting.
How did you know what he was getting? Did he describe it?
If you have any more revelations, keep them for your diaries...
...or your novels, they sound about alike.
Well, it's happy time for all.
Doug and his Joyce. You and your cradle snatchings.
You can have a double ceremony.
If you mean Chris, he's gone.
Where?
Into the arms of what you would be corny enough to call...
- ... "the other woman. " - Who?
Debby.
My Debby?
That's absurd.
That's what I thought. They're too close in age.
I'm gonna put a stop to that.
Hell you are.
Chris is giving her a job with my blessings.
Doesn't that just complete the picture?
In a painful kind of way.
Everything I've ever had, I had to share because of you.
My award, my husband, my daughter.
Isn't there anything that's mine?
- Your bile. - My righteous anger.
What a preacher you would make.
Because I don't have the morals of a yellow dog?
I have respect for the morals of yellow dogs.
- One come in the yard, we'd kick it. - They're loyal.
They'd hump a snake if it stood still.
- I haven't tried snakes. - A miracle.
- Now, I'm a slut? - You said it.
What are you saying, Merry?
How many men have you had?
- Is that the test? - How many?
- How many before you're a slut? - Three.
- Kick me out of the yard. - How many besides my husband?
Three sailors and a jockey but never your husband.
Which at this point, I regret.
What astonishes me is that you have no idea why I truly hate you at this point.
It's not because of your jealousy over my work.
Oh, your work!
Because you lack the moral sensibility to appreciate what I have lost in Doug.
- Next to nothing. - Liar.
A possession. You lost more in that bear.
That is one thing of mine you won't keep.
T ake him. That's one thing that won't talk back...
...so you can turn to hate of all exaggerations.
- I am not such a woman. - You're right.
- You are part such a woman. - Meaning?
Cunt.
God!
- Give me that bear. Give it. - It's mine.
Give me that. Give it here.
Darling, I've been looking for you.
- Happy New Year, Jules. - Happy New Year, angel.
Where are you going, love?
A party.
Liz.
Hello? Liz?
Liz.
Hello?
Come in.
Do you know how much it costs to take a cab here from New York?
Ninety dollars.
Ninety.
I tipped him five. Was that enough?
Oh, boy, doesn't that feel good.
Do you have glasses?
I hated my party.
Damn, the bubbles are gone.
Thanks.
I'm not much good at apologizing.
I guess I never have, actually, but I am now.
- You don't have to. - I certainly do.
I couldn't hate you.
And even if sometimes I do, I shouldn't say it.
You're my oldest friend. What else have we got in life?
Our oldest enemies.
Honey, as the years go on, they begin to look alike.
I've been thinking about us.
Really?
We're terrific.
You don't say.
We've accomplished one hell of a lot, in one lifetime.
What we deserve is a rest.
And we shouldn't always argue.
I know. You're right.
- You know what we should do? - What?
Take a year off...
...and sail around the Greek Isles.
Only sleep with guys who can't pronounce our names.
All Greeks.
Well, I couldn't do that.
Just the fishermen.
But how could I do such a thing?
It's simple. You just go there and let it happen.
I wouldn't even know where to start. I wouldn't- What would I say?
All my life I've wanted men...
...to find something mysterious and seductive in my work.
Some poetry.
Me too.
Now, let them find the poetry in my body.
Forget about the books.
Merry...
...do me a favor.
What?
Kiss me.
After all these years...
...are you going to tell me that there's something strange about you?
It's New Year's Eve.
I want the press of human flesh...
...and you're the only flesh around.
Kiss me.