He says he loves me, that he doesn't care if I'm blind or deaf or god forbid both.
And what's the matter with that?
He doesn't mean it.
Really?
How could you tell?
Ok, fine. He probably does mean it.
Kevin's like that.
He thinks love, music, and passion can overcome reality.
And you don't, I take it.
No, I don't.
No amount of poetry and music is going to keep me from going blind.
That train's left the station.
Ok, but who says you have to be sighted
to experience love and music and passion in your life?
Blindness trumps romanticism-- period, end of discussion.
Blindness trumps romanticism. Ok.
Uh, well, it definitely sounds like you and Kevin have different ideas
on the power of love and hope and passion.
Facts are facts.
Kevin hates when I say that.
Pouts and walks around like a puppy that just wet the carpet or something.
Calls me a pessimist.
I'm going blind, and he calls me a pessimist.
It sounds like Kevin is doing better with your impending blindness than you are.
That's because he's not the one going blind.
Holy cow, Dr. Huffstodt.
Holy cow, Dr. Huffstodt?
Yeah, holy cow.
I've made a deal with myself not to swear.
People might think I'm angry about what's happening to me if I go around cursing all day.
Well, golly gosh and gee whizzums, Kate. How's that working?
Fine.
Last week I asked him if he wanted to go to a movie.
He freaked out.
It used to be, sure, babe, what do you want to see?
Now it's ok, sure, right, we can do that.
We should probably sit close to the screen
so you have a better chance at seeing something.
And we probably shouldn't sit near anybody so I can talk and tell you what's going on.
And are you really ok with a stranger taking you into a public restroom?
I mean, I don't mind waiting outside, but
what if you have a problem in there?
Shit!
Shit and motherfucker!
Shit and motherfucking cocksucking--there!
Happy?
Go to Stanford, you fucking asshole!
Go ahead, just leave me alone!
Go to Stanford and live your life without me!
I'll be fine.
I'll be fine!
God damn it.
Shit.
Oh, Jesus.
Oh, sweet Jesus, fuck me. Are you having it?
Are you having the fucking-- oh, Jesus!
It? Is that what you're going to call your son--it?
And no, I am not having it.
But you would be the happiest guy in the world if I was.
No... no, I would not if it was early, Kelly. I woud not.
Just as long as he isn't born
you can just keep doing whatever the hell it is you're doing.
Painting shitty rainforest murals
and getting fucked up and acting as if it's my fault.
I never said it was your fault that I was late. I never said that.
Oh, sure. Are you ok, Kel?
Oh, gee, I'm so sorry, Kelly. Oh, business thing came up, Kel.
You know, it's still about you!
I am the one who's getting screwed
and somehow you're the one who needs taking care of.
It's fucked up, Russell!
You're angry.
I get it.
Sorry. I fucked up. I'm really truly very sorry.
And I'm sorry. Fuck.
And I just had one thing to say to you--
you really should not swear in front of the baby.
They've done lots of research,
and apparently the sound travels all up in there.
And it's not good. It's like music.
I read a lot about it on the internet.
What the fuck are you talking about?
I swear to god, Kelly, I planned to be here.
Just forget it.
This has never been an out-of-wedlock made in heaven. Who am I kidding?
But I'll tell you one thing--
I am getting ready for this baby with or without you.
Like I have a choice.
Oh, here we go. I got you, I got you.
Upsy-daisy, honey. Here we go.
Oh, cheese time for Kel.
Oh, like you never fart.
The shit that comes out of your mouth-- I swear, it's your asshole.
Another thing-- you snore through your ears. It's disgusting.
Deviated septum as a child.
Deviated, I'm sure.
I've got to take a shower.
Have a nice day.
All right.
You know, I already rode you once, and this is what I got.
I'll take the bus, thank you very much.
I've got a yoga class, I'm having this baby naturally without drugs.
Oh, and I am getting a doula.
I kind of like your hair the way it is.
A doula.
A birthing coach. You know, to help me stay healthy.
I thought that was la maze... la mazzie.
It's lamaze, ok?
And that is nothing more than hyperventilating.
That is the last thing I'll need when my vagina will be stretched
all the way to encino-- for somebody telling me to pant.
Doula, from the greek.
Meaning the most important female servant of the house.
Doulas are emotional, spiritual, and physical guides.
Well, you know what? By gum, I'm for it, I swear.
I think we should do it all-- the yogurt, the juice, it's great.
The stretching, the doula.
Fine. I'll be meeting a few tomorrow afternoon.
Be there if you can.
Don't be if you can't.
But the pressure's off,
because I am not counting on you.
Dad, you've been screwed up ever since that kid killed himself.
Byrd, that was almost 2 years ago.
So, he's still dead, right?
Yeah, he is.
Byrd, that was a really hard time for me.
But, you know, I've been working through it.
I think in a lot of ways I'm stronger for it.
Dad, with all due respect, that's such bullshit.
No, it isn't, Byrd.
Yeah it is.
You don't know that.
Ok, whatever.
At least I know what kind of father you are.
I'm sorry?
I said, at least I know what kind of father you are.
Yeah, that's what I thought you said.
Care to elaborate on that?
No, not really.
Are you sure?
'Cause it seems like you have something to say.
I'd like to hear it.
Ok, dad. First of all, I'm not the same kid
that walked into your office the day that kid Sam killed himself, all right?
And said that you could always come to me and that I'd always understand,
because that kid had to grow up.
And second of all, I'm not the same kid that said I'd always be your son,
because no matter what happened nobody could take that away from us,
because you took that away from us, dad.
And you walked out on being my dad about 2 years ago, and I'm doing fine.
Byrd, I never walked out on you.
Oh, bullshit, dad! You don't even know I exist anymore!
That is not true. Come on.
- Yes it is, dad! - No it isn't.
Byrd, maybe I haven't given the kind of attention you've wanted lately, and I'm sorry for that,
but I have never walked out on you.
Dad, you're doing that right now,
and there's a big difference between giving the kind of attention that I wanted
and the kind of attention that I needed. All right?
Just like asking me how I'm doing, or how I feel about the fact that nana almost died.
Or the fact that gram is becoming an alcoholic right before our very eyes.
Or that mom is walking around disintegrating inside,
while you just walking around complain all the time
because she isn't doing what the fuck you think she should!
And now you're going to fucking leave without asking any questions,
without doing anything, just goodbye!
Can I ask you something?
Byrd, when mom was going back to New Jersey to be with nana,
did you know she was going to stay indefinitely?
Of course I did, dad!
Why is that ok, but when I need to leave, I am the bad guy?
Because her mother was dying!
She was just using that as an excuse to leave.
No, dad. She couldn't stand being around you!
Ok, ok... come here. Come here.
- Dad, don't touch me! - Byrd, I love you--
Dad, don't touch me! Fuck!
Ok, ok. I'm sorry.
Can we just calm down and just talk about this?
I don't want to talk about it, dad.
I'm sure you have your reasons.
Please? You're right, we should talk.
No, I'm serious, dad. I don't need to hear about it.
I'm sure it makes perfect sense to you,
I'm sure you'd have no problem justifying any of it,
but I really don't want to hear it and I don't want to talk about it.
Look, I asked you never to do it again, all right,
and you ignored me and did it anyway. That's pretty fucked, don't you think?
It's definitely fucked.
So, why did you do it?
It was too easy not to.
Man, you broke into my uncle Teddy's place. That's not cool.
He's a schizoid, tweetie-pie. Don't worry-- who cares?
I care! All right? He's my uncle!
Why am I not surprised you're a shover?
Listen, dude, I asked you to lay off, and you didn't lay off.
If you asked me to lay off and I didn't lay off,
you'd shred my ass in 50 different ways.
That's right.
So, what do you think I should do to you?
You're amazing, Byrd.
First of all, you have a really stupid name.
Second of all, you wouldn't do shit to me.
- Why not? - Why not?
Because however you fucked me,
I would come back at you tenfold.
It is biblical, what I would do to you.
Ok, look, man, you fuck with my uncle again, we'll just see how far I'll go.
Is that a challenge or is that a warning?
It's information. No more, no less.
Information...
I like to support the local places.
Our culture's become so homogenized I can hardly stand it.
Yeah, that's what I like about Venice.
People are comfortable being who they are.
This is really sweet. Thank you.
I didn't even know if you drink coffee.
Then there's the whole cream issue, and you know, light and sweet or just black.
And, my god, and sugar-- don't even get me started.
And sweet 'n low and splenda and sugar and pink and yellow and white.
It's all way too much, so-- I took a risk and I guessed.
You ever notice how coffee smells so much better than it tastes?
My mom used to say that.
She used to fix a whole pot of it and then hardly even drink a drop.
You would like her.
I mean, when she's-- you know, doing well.
She keeps trying to get me to come home.
You going to go?
Uh, I don't know. I might.
Do you want to come with me?
That would be fun.
We could go to, you know, truck stops and eat bad food and have sex in fun places.
And, you know, make a whole road trip out of it.
Go home with you?
To meet your family and all?
Yeah.
I don't think I could get away in time. It's such short notice.
Just for a couple of days.
I don't know. I don't think so.
It's... Not now... no.
That's... that's it? Just no?
It's not a good time.
Good time?
It's, um, very busy right now.
Doing what? Rearranging flowers?
No, that's not nice, not nice.
Ok, just tell me why you won't go with me.
I'm not ready to meet your family.
Is that it? Really?
You just don't want to meet them?
Or are you afraid that they might like you...
like I do?
And that they might be interested in you and start asking questions like I do?
You're asking me questions because you want me to do something that I don't want to do,
and you're trying to trick me.
Trick you... trick you?
I don't want to meet your family.
Ok, fine. Then don't meet them.
Then quit asking me to.
Ok, then stop freaking out about it.
I'm not freaking out about it! I don't freak out about it,
and don't you ever tell me that I freak out about shit ever again!
Ok.
Ok, I hear you.
Loud and clear.
- Hey, hey, hey. - No, no, no...
Fuck you.
Forget it.
He says he needs time to get his act together.
Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if he's ever had his act together.
Oh, nobody really has their act together. Not completely.
Well, Jesus had his act together.
They nailed him to the cross.
I feel like I've been nailed to the cross.
You know, I mean figuratively.
I'm certainly not comparing my difficulties to those of Jesus.
Why not? Listen, he's a great guy. He'd get it.
Lately, I'm glad when I get home first and he's not there.
And I'm glad after he leaves in the morning for work,
and that's not a good sign, is it?
Well, it's being honest.
That's a good sign.
- Here you go. - Thank you.
He's leaving tonight, I think.
He's taking his shit and everything.
I'm sorry... his stuff.
Oh, Beth. You can say shit in front of me.
Shit's just what the body gets rid of so we can stay healthy.
And if there's shit in the house and it's his, he should take it with him.
Well, my shit is in the house, too. You know, it's not just his.
Well, you make sure that he doesn't take yours with him.
That's your job.
You know, I hope you realize that you're one of the lucky ones.
I don't feel lucky.
I'm talking about your mother.
One minute she's dying of cancer,
and the next minute she's in the kitchen telling your father
she wants to go home and play golf.
I'm a firm believer that only the lord could make that happen.
You witnessed a huge miracle in your life,
and you didn't have to do a thing to make it happen.
So, I want you to just sit tight,
clean up your side of the street,
and wait in faith.
I have to tell you something.
I don't think I came here today to tell you this,
but I'm just realizing I have to tell you.
Last week... I went out with an old college roommate
and we got drunk and she was in the ladies room
and I walked in and she kissed me.
Really?
I don't think she's a lesbian, but she did kiss me.
And there's nothing wrong with being a lesbian, or maybe there is.
It's in the bible, right? Leviticus? Maybe it's a sin.
Kissing in the ladies room?
With a woman, you know?
Oh, no, forget it. We'll just talk about my husband.
You're confused. I understand that.
- You do? - Yeah.
I kissed her back.
Her back... why not her lips?
I kissed her lips.
I kissed her mouth. I kissed her hard.
And I have absolutely no idea why.
But, uh... I liked it and it's freaking me out.
I wouldn't exactly call getting drunk on my butt
and making out with a woman in a ladies room
cleaning up my side of the street, would you?
Well, listen, for now let's just call it multitasking in the ladies room, ok?
Ok...
Come on, it's ok.
Mom...
Mom. Can you stop with the chopping for a second?
I'm trying to talk to you.
Trying implies failure. And you're not talking with me, you're talking at me.
You're chopping at me, mom.
Mom, Beth and I are separating.
I know that.
Ok, I just wanted to tell you myself.
Fine, you told me.
That's it? You don't have anything to say about it?
For Christ's sake. What would you like me to do?
Bring you a teddy bear, tell you how said I am
that you're having this sorry little time?
I'd like to hear how you feel about it.
No, you wouldn't.
So, I take it you're thrilled.
What did you expect, a parade?
A little support, maybe.
Support? For leaving your family. That's really rich.
Mom, I'm not leaving my wife and son, ok?
Look at me. You stop chomping on that damn carrot and look at me.
You are leaving.
You can continue paying the mortgage
and you can leave warm and caring messages on the voicemail for Beth
when you know she's not at home, but you're leaving!
You're packing your goddamn bag and you're leaving!
No longer sleeping in your wife's bed,
no longer here to see your son come home from school...
You will be absent.
Like a death.
Actually, death would be kinder.
There's no ambivalence with death.
So, please, do us all a favor,
and stop walking around trying to be the good guy.
You think you're being honest and that everyone will give you your blessing,
no, you're wrong.
Mother, Beth and I are so angry with each other right now,
we can't stand to be in the same room together.
Then go to different rooms, for Christ sake!
How is staying here and gutting it out supposed to help that?
I do not know, but how is leaving going to help that?
Can you not point that at me, please?
A little quiet time, you know? I need some time to sort things out.
Quiet time? You think this is romper room?
It's a marriage. It is a marriage.
I should know. I was married to a Huffstodt.
Oh god, I guess that your father has passed on
the think-it's-time-to-bolt gene to you, too, hmm?
What is that? Like father like son. No, that's much too sweet.
Um... sins of the father visited upon the son.
Yes, I like that much better.
Mom, stop it, ok? I'm not like dad.
Don't compare me to him, please.
No, you are his son.
It was your father. I was his wife.
You are leaving just like he did.
You know the pain that caused all of us.
For years, nothing but pain.
Huffstodt men-- they always leave. Ow!
Ooh, mom...
Goddamn him. 30 years later, he's still drawing blood.
- Mom, let me look at that. - It's nothing.
It doesn't look like nothing, mother. It looks nasty.
That's what I've been trying to tell you, son.
Don't worry about me.
I've always been fine, and I will continue to be fine
no matter how horrible a life you decide to lead.
Wow...
Well, I applied pressure and I've wrapped it several times as you can see.
It won't stop bleeding.
All right, all right, let's see what we're dealing with here.
So, how's the family doing?
Lovely. Everyone's just lovely.
Stitches, right?
Right. Stitches.
Byrd must be, what? A rocket scientist by now?
He just finished a lovely photo exhibit at lacma.
Wow.
Animals.
Ow...
Ok, ok.
That's a new receptionist out front, right?
Yes, it is.
Uh, Danielle.
Very sweet.
How's Huff?
Lovely. Everyone is lovely.
Busy. Busy, busy.
Um, Beth is, uh...
she's just really more and more delightful every day.
I feel so blessed that they found one another, you know?
I do. Good for them.
I'm sorry. Am I hurting you?
Izzy.
Hey.
Well, I'm taking off for Russell's. I just wanted to let you know.
I'll be around.
You know, I'll give you a call.
I'll be at the office if you need me for anything.
I don't think I'll need you, dad. Mom's here.
Well, I'll see you later, I guess.
Take care, Byrdy.
Well, Byrd sure just gave me the cold shoulder.
Really? I wonder why.
So, I'm going to head over to Russell's now.
Ok, well, drive carefully, I guess.
Do you want to walk me to the door or something?
Why the hell not?
I've... never done this before.
Neither have I.
Um... well, do we kiss goodbye, or--
No.
Ok.
Well, we'll talk, I guess.
Right?
Ok.
Call me if you have something to say.
And hopefully I'll still want to say something myself.
Goodbye, Huff.
Goodbye.
Welcome to the hotel maison Tupper.
Martinis will be complimentary on an ongoing basis,
but I don't have shit for food.
Menus in the kitchen drawer.
It's ok. Won't be necessary.
Every time I eat, it feels like it lands on a bed of ground glass 30 seconds later, anyway.
It's all going to be... It's all going to be ok, buddy.
Yeah. It might not.
No, it's going to work out. I got a good feeling about it.
You guys love each other too much, you know?
Yeah, this is just temporary.
The good news is that you took a time-out before things got nasty.
Right? Give it a time-out, a little hiatus.
You're going to regroup,
you're going to cooler heads will prevail, and you're going to come back strong, right?
Millions of couples do this all the time, and it's healthy.
It's healthy, so...
Yeah, you might be right. Can I have another one, please?
Of course you can.
Buddy, just out of curiosity, what time do you shower in the morning?
Uh, why?
Well, um...
I've got this little milk jug of a hot water heater.
And, you know, just might have to work out a little system.
That's all.
Uh, 7:30 usually, give or take.
You're kidding! That's exactly when I shower.
Isn't that funny?
Fuck it. No big deal. Minor detail.
We'll work it out.
Here you go. That's on the house.
Hope you enjoy your stay.
Thank you.
Cheers.
Mike?
Mike!
Mikey, come here.
Mike, come on. Quit fucking around. Come up here.
Mike, get up here right now! Come here.
Good boy.
Come on.
Let's go to bed.
Come on. Get in the bed.
Mikey, come here. Get into bed.
Sleep on dad's side.
Oh, fuck me! Oh, shit, man.
Oh, shit.
No.
No, no,
and... oh, absolutely no.
Do you know how much artificial sweeteners and chemicals
there are in one tiny little teaspoon of this?
A lot?
And you, you should be ashamed of yourself.
As her partner, it is your job to protect her body
as the sacred temple that it is.
Oh, thank you. Except that we're actually not partners.
No, sir, we're not. We're not partners.
We're friends, right? We're friends.
And we're doing this together, aren't we?
But we're not partners.
Whatever.
You're here.
And in my book, that constitutes some kind of partnership
however dysfunctional it may be.
I like you, Malora.
You're really smart, authentic, no bullshit.
You're just... you.
I like that.
Thank you, honey.
If we work together, I will help make this pregnancy
the most important experience of your life.
I love that.
This is what I need to hear.
Can we hire her?
Oh... oh, you're fucking hired, aren't you?
Good!
Oh, I've lost far too much blood to answer the door.
It's open.
- Hi. - Oh...
Come on, you didn't have to do that.
How are you feeling?
Well, I really think I understand the romans and all that blood-letting and leeches.
Really, I feel purged.
I might have to get some for the house.
That cut must have hurt like hell.
Oh, it'll heal. Just a few stitches.
It's a shame marriages can't get stitches, isn't it?
I made Mike sleep with me last night.
Oh, oh yeah.
Oh yeah. The first time Ben left, I hauled Brutus into bed.
He was a ridgeback. Firm and hard.
You could slap his flanks with love and he'd do nothing but smile.
Thank god for dogs, huh?
Actually, Ben was a dog.
Just the wrong kind.
He never smiled like Brutus.
So, is there anything else I can do or get for you?
Stop fussing.
Beth, would you please sit?
I am really sorry.
I'm sorry because I have been just so wrapped up in my own wounds--
you know, my finger and my heart--
I haven't even asked you how you're doing.
Not sleeping? That's normal.
What else?
Talk.
I don't know. I just don't know.
Would you like to have a drink and find out?
No, thank you.
I know that Huff and I need this time, but...
the house just feels so empty.
And I keep trying not to think about all the good times,
but that seems to be all I can think about now.
And for months I didn't have two words to say to him.
Now I keep thinking about all these things that I want to tell him.
I'm scared.
Izzy, I'm so scared.
How did you do this? How did you deal when Ben left you?
Oh, good lord.
I don't think anybody's ever asked me that.
How'd I deal?
Not very well, I'm afraid.
Oh yeah, the first year, I was sleeping with Brutus,
and then after that, I--
I learned how to hide the pain.
Which is very different, actually, from getting used to it.
Oh, honey...
this is going to sound so hideously pathetic,
but I really think that...
a part of me died every time he left.
Yeah. Unfortunately, the good part,
so that all that remained was bitterness and hurt and...
Oh, boy, that's a cheery answer, huh?
Cheery question.
The fact is, I will always love that man.
But I have learned to tuck him away deep inside
and only let him out when I feel strong,
when I feel safe enough to do it.
Will you answer me a question?
Sure.
You think I drink too much?
Probably.
Yeah, me, too.
Oh, well... berry?
Would you like a cocktail?
I think I would.
I think that would be lovely.
How about you?
Yeah. Yeah, I would like to have a cocktail.
Good.
I have some divine cocktail nuts that I have been saving,
and this is a great time to bring them out.
Bar's open. Surprise me.
Come in.
Hey.
Paula gave me your message.
Everything all right?
This is why people like me should be locked away in boxes.
I'm in love.
You're kidding me. That's fantastic.
It's not fantastic. It's ripping my fucking heart out.
Well... who is she? Does she live here?
No, she's not... like me.
She's not ill.
I've been using that word ill lately. I like it better than sick.
She's only the most beautiful girl in the world,
and I've lied about where I live and why I live here.
Now she's furious and has every reason to tell me to eat shit and die.
Well, I'm sure that's not true.
You don't know that.
That's true.
I can't even be honest about who I am.
I'm finished.
Well, so, uh...
what are you going to do?
There's no-- Teddy, there's no shame in being who you are.
Really, you are a wonderful person with a very particular challenge.
You deserve to know if she's capable of being with you.
That's really easy to say.
Sorry I left out the part about being mentally ill
and living in a house full of noodle junkies-- that kind of got away from me.
Well, Ted, she also deserves to know the truth.
You think I don't know that?
Ok, fine. What the fuck do you want me to say?
I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.
I might just... I might not be the best person to talk to right now.
Beth and I are splitting up for awhile.
We're... separating.
Jesus... really?
Yeah.
If you can't do it, why do I even fucking try?
Dad called.
What in god's name did he want?
Izzy.
That's all right, mom. I asked him the same question.
So, what did he want?
He just called to make sure I'm all right and that I know he's still around.
That is such-- excuse my language-- bullsheet.
What does he think? We're sitting around here mourning his absence?
Probably.
He was always such a me-me-me child.
I should have hit him more.
It was the sixties. I had the chance.
You guys should have hit me more. I don't even remember getting spanked.
I'm thinking about going back to school.
Really?
Mom, are you serious?
Is it a stupid idea?
My darling, furthering your education is not stupid.
Waiting on a man to change for 40 years-- that's stupid.
I regret not having done more with my life.
Really?
I would have had a career.
If you must know, I secretly always wanted to work for the airlines.
Pan Am or TWA.
But married women, you know, we're not encouraged to pursue careers.
Stay at home, raise the kids, that's what we did.
Gram, you wanted to be a flight attendant?
The word is stewardess, Byrdy, and, no,
I did not want to pass out peanuts and baby bottles of gin.
I wanted to fly the damn thing.
A pilotess, or whatever it would have been called.
That's why I think this is such an excellent idea, Beth.
You know, it's time for you to spread your wings. It's time for you.
And having had experience with a Huffstodt man,
oh, boy, I think that it is important for you to leave your options open.
Hear, hear.
You know what I feel like doing?
Let's get really hammered and watch a dvd-- Alien.
Please, can we get hammered and watch Alien? Please?
- Buddy. - What?
You and me are not curling up on a couch and watching a movie together.
I don't want to curl up with you, I want to get shitfaced.
So do I, but guess what? We're going out to do it.
Ok, you and me, like old times. We ride. Fuck.
What? Is that a pager?
Kelly's given me this homing device.
You know, for "emergencies."
Dude, that's so nineties.
Oh, fuck.
It's a 9-1-1. Goddamn it. Fuck me, goddamn it.
Is she going into labor?
No, she's not. She fucking 9-1-1s me if she breaks wind, man.
She's way out of control with this thing.
I got to go over there.
What about our all male-bonding, debauched shitfaced thing?
Oh, don't you worry. I'm not letting this derail that. I'll be back by 10.
How long can it take to fumigate a one-bedroom, anyway?
Well, can't you just call her up?
If I call her up, she says "can't you please come over here for one second?"
I got to rub some weird shit onto her, massage some fucking place.
I'll be right back. Take me two seconds.
I lied to you.
No shit.
I live here.
Where?
In the nut hut.
I don't have a house. If I had a house, we'd be staying there.
There's nothing I'd like more than to stay with you--
night after night, until I get used to falling asleep with you, waking up with you.
You don't have a house?
I don't have a house.
I live here.
This is my room.
I'm not sure I want to go in there until I know what all of this means.
This means...
that I like you very much and I'm not going to lie to you anymore.
If you want to stay out there and listen, that's ok by me.
So, this is your room?
Yeah.
- It's awfully blue. - I didn't choose the color.
Well, that's a good sign.
Come on...
What the fuck?
Fuck!
Come on!
What the hell is that?
It's a pond.
I didn't say a pond. I said a pool.
As in a birthing trough.
Yeah, same thing.
And this one-- what's cool about this one is when we're through with it,
take it over to my house and the kid can come over and splash around.
Right? Or I can put some fishies in it and he can play with the fish.
Fish?
Yeah. Pretty koi fish.
Pretty ones. They got silver ones and black ones and orange ones
and, I don't know, fucking sparkly ones.
Also, this one's got this fucking cool shelf, right, this nifty shelf.
You can sit on the shelf while you're doing your thing.
And trust me. The birthing tubs had no shelf.
They're just like fucking plain.
Take it back.
I'm not having my baby in a pond.
Honey, pool, pond-- I got to tell you, I really don't see what the big difference is.
One is for people and the other is for fish!
You got to try to not come so unglued every time I do something nice for you.
Well, maybe if you would do something right, I wouldn't become unglued.
Am I or am I not trying to make this o-d-doula fucking day thing happen?
Doula, doula, dou-la!
Whatever. It's weirding me out, Kel.
It's not weird to be natural!
- Having a baby in a pond... - Pool!
...in a pool in your living room is fucking weird!
Well, when you decide to push 9 pounds of kicking, screaming flesh out of your penis,
you can do it any way you want to.
But in the meantime, get me my fucking trough.
Why didn't you get her the fucking tub in the first place?
I know you're dealing with a crazy pregnant woman.
Ok... whatever.
Whatever, whatever. Could you just hurry home, please?
I want to turn the TV on. I can't figure the fucking thing out.
No, actually, you're a stupid fuck. Have more remotes.
Hurry up.
Fuck.
Come on.
You attacked her?
Your own mother?
I thought she was trying to kill me.
Your mother?
You haven't met my mother.
It was a long time ago.
My sophomore year in college.
My last semester.
My medication... wasn't regulated then.
I had a psychotic break.
It wasn't the first one, but...
it was the worst one I ever had.
After that, they put me in a real hospital--
Woodburn.
You had to drop out of school?
What were you studying?
Biology.
I like science and, uh, water. I wanted to be a marine biologist.
How long were you in the hospital?
A really long time.
So long...
I wanted to kill myself.
When I escaped, my brother-- he let me come here.
I should have told you, I know that.
I kept telling myself all the time-- I'm schizophrenic.
But I just thought if I could have one more day,
if I could have just one more day with her so I could just never forget it...
What do you think?
I don't know...
what to think.
I need some time.
Teddy, I, um...
I think I need to figure out how I feel about this.
I'm going to go home tomorrow.
I promised my mom.
How long will you be gone?
I don't know. Uh... a week.
Maybe longer.
- How much longer? - I'm not sure.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry I lied to you.
Thank you for letting me try to be who I've always wanted to be.
May I hug you goodbye?
The smell of your hair makes me nuts.
I'm already nuts, but...
I just love it.
It makes my knees weak.
Transcript: Raceman Subtitles:
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