"Daria" is owned and copyrighted by MTV. All rights reserved. This is *not* an episode, but the best imitation of an episode that I could write. Thanks to the creators of "Daria" for providing so much rich material for fanfics.... This is [or should be] the nineteenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe. It follows 1) "Rose-Colored Lenses," 2) "The Tie That Chokes," 3) "That Thing You Say," 4) "'Shipped Out," 5) "Andrea Speaks!", 6) "Cheered Down," 7) "None in the Family, Part One,"8) "None in the Family, Part Two," 9) "Outvoted," 10) "Of Absolute Value," 11) "Breaking the Mold," 12) "Surreal World," 13) "Erin the Head," 14) "Primarily Color," 15) "The Age of Cynicism," 16) "Charge of the Math Brigade," 17) "An Uneasy Marriage," and 18) "In Her Own Words." This is one of those "cumulative" fics, where stories from previous fics begin to be resolved. Basically, my fics up to this point, especially #16 through #18, have served to build up tension. #19 through #22 will release it... sort of. Because it is a cumulative fic, it would have helped to have read the following beforehand: "The Tie That Chokes," "That Thing You Say," "None in the Family, Parts 1&2," "Breaking the Mold," "Erin the Head," "Charge of the Math Brigade," "An Uneasy Marriage," and "In Her Own Words." But if you didn't, never fret: I made enough references to be helpful, but not so many that it interfered with the story. Besides, even people who have read each fic 10 times will be confused. ; > It's a 3S. Actually, having read real half-hour scripts (which are even shorter than I thought), I can guess it's actually many sittings more than that. One final thing I ought to confess up front: this fanfic features a boyfriend- girlfriend relationship that will probably seem like an adult version of the Daria/Tom relationship. This was not intentional. In #19 and #20, I tried to give the boyfriend his own likes, dislikes, and quirks, but suspect people will think "Tom Sloane" anyway because of his sarcasm. Never mind that this character first appeared in "The Tie That Chokes" and "That Thing You Say," which came out before "Jane's Addition" aired, and was alluded to in "None and the Family" and "Erin the Head," which came out long before S4 eps "I Loathe a Parade," "Fire!", and "Dye! Dye! My Darling." Ah well, judge for yourselves, and lemme know what you think. Oh, and enjoy! [intro theme music...................] ALL BUT FORGOTTEN -- by Kara Wild ACT ONE SCENE 1 (Helen's office, Friday afternoon before a three-day weekend) (Shot of the outside [whatever it looks like; have we even seen it?]. Cut to shot of Helen sitting at her desk, phone to her ear. She speaks with her normal assertiveness, but she looks tired.) HELEN: (to another lawyer) It's unacceptable. *Unacceptable*. It will be a *cold* day in Hades before I accept an offer so *ludicrously* off the mark. (Pause. Her eyes narrow.) What do you *mean* it's the best outcome I could hope for?? Listen here, you: I could take this to court and wind up with a settlement a *lot* larger than what you -- (Pause. Helen's face pales and she grits her teeth.) Oh *really*?? Well you may *think* my "star is falling," but I'll have you know I'm every *bit* as capable of staring you down as I ever have been! (hard tone.) And on that note: I'll see you in court. (She slams down the phone in it's cradle. Cut to brief close-up of Marianne at her desk. She winces, then resumes typing. Helen, for a moment, stares at the phone with a competitive gleam in her eyes. Then it fades, leaving Helen looking as though the energy has drained from her body. She sinks back in her chair and her face takes on a pensive expression. Marianne glances at her with concern.) HELEN: (catching her) *What*?! MARIANNE: Um, nothing. HELEN: (angry, weary) You *look* as though you want to say something so quit stalling and *say* it. (Beat) MARIANNE: It's just you... HELEN: It's just I *what*?! (Beat) MARIANNE: (weak) It's just... (She feels Helen's hard gaze.) you did your hair nicely today. Yes, that's it. (Helen gets a stony expression; they both know that's *not* what she wanted to say. Marianne smiles and quickly resumes working. Helen stares at her for a moment, then lets her gaze trail over to the side of the room. She gazes absently for several seconds, before finally "coming to" with a scowl. She slaps herself and straightens up, just as Eric waltzes into the room.) ERIC: (to Helen, oozing charm) How's my *favorite* lawyer doing?? HELEN: (face brightening) Oh *hello*, Eric! I was just haggling with Joe Goldberg about the settlement for the Headbands USA lawsuit; you know how that idiot will never meet us halfway. ERIC: You bet I do. (winks.) Which is why you'll *hit* him with the jury box, won't you? HELEN: (pleased) You know me too well. (lips curl.) I'm going to *crush* that bastard if it's the last thing I do. ERIC: Now *that's* the competitor I know and love. (pats her shoulder.) It's great to have you back. HELEN: Back? (small, weak laugh.) Have I gone anywhere? ERIC: Oh, well... (awkward Pause. Eric gets the same expression that Marianne did earlier.) you know you've been kind of off kilter. HELEN: (slight frown) I've been a little under the weather lately, but I haven't *lost* anything. (Bt) I'm still the same as I've always been. ERIC: (a little too breezy) Of *course* you are. (grips her shoulder in a "buddy" hug.) And before you know it, you'll have kicked that losing streak and regained that golden girl fierceness I keep *telling* them you have. HELEN: (confused) Keep telling *who* I have? The other partners?? ERIC: They've been a little worried. (Bt) Actually "outraged" is the more appropriate word. "She's costing us millions!" blah, blah. But don't fret: I'm sure you can prove to them you're *still* partnership material. (Beat) HELEN: (slightly sickened expression) Of course. ERIC: But before you delve further into the case, I want you to rest up real well these next few days. HELEN: (dazed) Rest?? Eric, are *you* feeling all right? ERIC: (jovial) Oh come *on*, Helen, I believe in relaxation as much as the next boss; it's a holiday weekend, for crying out loud! So only keep your cell phone on during daylight hours. HELEN: Well... thank you. But you know that with big cases like this, I usually put in weekends at the office. ERIC: Helen. (meaningful look.) You need rest. So you don't end up getting a much longer rest. (Helen catches his meaning, swallows hard. Marianne glances at her with sympathy.) HELEN: Yes, you're right. (tries to smile.) Of course: some rest is just what I need. ERIC: That's my girl! (He claps her on the shoulder one last time before heading toward the door.) If you need to contact me, I'll be on my boat. Have a *great* weekend. (He nods at Marianne, then leaves. As soon as he's gone, Helen sinks lower in her chair, trying with all of her might to keep a calm expression. Finally she looks at Marianne.) HELEN: (deflated) So do *you* think I need rest? MARIANNE: (quiet) You have seemed awfully tired, Helen. It'd be good for you to spend time away from work, even if it's only a few days. HELEN: (brightening momentarily) Yes, I could finally spend some time with my family. Some real unhurried *quality* time. (Pause. Something about this idea causes her to lose her glow, and she says in a murmuring tone:) I can hardly wait. (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 2 (freeway, on the way home) (Cut to overhead shot revealing a dark sky and cars locked in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Cut to side shot of Helen in her SUV, wilted against her seat.) HELEN: (whispering) Snap *out* of it, Morgendorffer! Shake it off! Nothing's wrong that can't be fixed. Nothing's beyond you... oh God. (Her face puckers.) Oh God, everything's a mess. (She takes a deep, quaking breath to sober herself up.) I just need someone to talk to. My family -- *no*. (She looks truly miserable, until something occurs to her and she reaches for her cell phone.) (Cut to shot of the kitchen at the Lane residence. The phone starts ringing shrilly, and rings several times before Trent strolls over, coffee pot in hand. He picks up the phone, then lays his ear against the pot.) TRENT: Hello? (Bt) Hello? HELEN: (from the phone) Hello?? Trent? (Realizing his mistake, Trent lays the pot on the counter and slaps his forehead.) TRENT: *Man*, that was bad. (puts the phone against his ear.) Yeah, it's Trent. (recognizing.) Is this Daria's mom? (Split screen to show Helen on the left side, looking anxious.) HELEN: Yes Trent, this is Helen Morgendorffer. Could I speak to your mother, please?? (Trent stifles a yawn, looks thoughtful.) TRENT: Sure... if I can track her down in Guadalajara. Or was it Guatemala? Someplace where they've only got one phone every fifteen miles. (Helen exhales silently.) HELEN: Do you... know when she might be home? TRENT: No. But when she arrives, I gotta tell her there was an accident with her kiln. (uneasy expression.) Um yeah, *accident*. HELEN: (feeble) Well... when she gets home, could you please have her call me?? Tell her it's very important. TRENT: Got it. (picks up on the urgency in her voice.) What's wrong? HELEN: (startled by his bluntness) Wrong? Nothing. Nothing's wrong. (musters a smile.) I just needed to ask your mother a silly little question, that's all. It's nothing important. TRENT: (confused) But you just said -- HELEN: I *really* should be going; the traffic's starting to let up. Say hi to Jane for me, and you take care of yourself, young man. TRENT: (still confused) Sure. Bye. (Cut to full shot of Helen in her SUV. Wearing an expression of defeat, she lays her cell phone back on the passenger seat. Then she gets another idea and quickly picks the phone up again, autodials another phone number. Helen lays the phone against her ear and waits, with a pained expression, as it rings over and over again. Finally: ) GREG: Hello? (Helen loses her nerve and shuts of the phone before another word can be uttered. She flings it against the passenger seat. Then she takes several deep breaths to calm herself down.) HELEN: (hoarse) Focus, Morgendorffer... (She reaches into a compartment where her CDs are stored, then pops one in. Close-up reveals it to be the Elvis Presley Anthology. As the King starts crooning away, Helen seems to gain a little serenity.) (Meanwhile, cut to shot of Trent sitting in the kitchen, drinking a mug of coffee. Jane walks in, forages through the fridge.) JANE: Who was on the phone? TRENT: Daria's mom. She wanted to know if *our* mom was around. JANE: Mom -- around?? Like she was someone who actually lived here? TRENT: Yeah. Go figure. JANE: Maybe when pottery wheels fly. (turns to Trent, smirks.) Which, given what you and the band did to her kiln, may not be beyond the realm of possibility. TRENT: (scowling) We were just trying something cool for our music video. We got caught up in the moment. JANE: (wicked) I'll say. Too bad none of you guys remembered bring a camera. (Trent scowls.) JANE: So did Helen want to sign up for another art class, or something? TRENT: (shrugs) She never said. Just said traffic was letting up and she had to go. (frowns mildly.) Funny though: she sounded like she really needed to talk to Mom. JANE: (brow creasing) That is funny. (Cut to shot of a freeway overpass. Zoom in on a sign underneath that shows a junction coming up, with Downtown Lawndale on one side and the Interstate freeway on the other.) (Cut to shot of Helen in the SUV. She drives as though in a trance, letting Elvis's music run through her.) ELVIS: "Is your heart filled with pain, shall I come back again?/Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?" (The song ends, and there's total silence until the next one starts.) ELVIS: I've had nothing but sorrow Since you said we were through There's no hope for tomorrow How's the world treating you? Every sweet thing that mattered Has been broken in two All my dreams have been shattered How's the world treating you? (Helen murmurs along, until she notices something up ahead.) HELEN: *Dammit*!! (Cut to her POV: The signs along the road reveal that she is on the Interstate.) HELEN: I missed the turnoff! Dammit, *dammit*!!! (Getting angrier than necessary, she pounds and shakes the steering wheel.) Now I'll have to get off and turn *around*!!! (A sob wells in her throat, nearly choking her last words. Indeed, this little mistake seems like the thing to tip her over the edge. Shaking and blinking back tears, Helen grips the steering wheel.) (Cut to shot of the outside. The SUV keeps riding along the Interstate, past an overhead sign which reveals various destinations. Cut to shot of Helen. She still seems on the verge of a breakdown, but then becomes calmer once she sees the sign. Suddenly her shaking stops, and she takes a deep, calming breath. She straightens up, her eyes focusing in such a way that says she has made a decision. Her grip on the steering wheel relaxes.) (Cut to shot of the outside. The SUV rides past a clearly-marked Exit and keeps on going.) (cut to: ) SCENE 3 (Morgendorffer residence, later that evening) (Cut to shot of the outside, revealing few lights on other than the one in Quinn's bedroom. Cut to shot of Daria lying on the bed in her room, phone to her ear.) JANE: (on the other end) So do you want me to come over, or not? DARIA: Sure. (cocks an eyelid.) You can make a pretty wall mural out of the stains Quinn left from cooking dinner. (Cut to split screen.) JANE: What the hell is so hard about heating a tin of lasagna? DARIA: Just the obvious: heating metal in the microwave causes fire. Quinn did not realize this before failing to place the food in a microwave- safe container. When disaster struck, she panicked and tossed the flaming mess toward the sink. JANE: "*Toward* the sink"?? DARIA: (sour expression) It missed. JANE: Lovely. So where were *you* to prevent this calamity? DARIA: (deadpan defensive) *I* was watching the bag of instant mashed potatoes do somersaults in boiling water. Making dinner is hard work, you know. JANE: Yeah, you're a real Julia Child. So is this newfound love of cuisine an attempt to extract a *really* punishing sum from your parents? DARIA: If you think I'd go to that much trouble, you must have fallen and hit your head pretty hard on the way to the nut house. (Bt) My parents are both gone for the evening; Mom just called to say she's pulling an all-nighter at the office. JANE: (genuine shock) So you... were being... *responsible*?! DARIA: (embarrassed, defensive) I was trying not to starve. You think I'd order out after the exposes we did for the underground?? JANE: Bleh, true. (Bt) But it's strange: you said your mother was at the office. DARIA: To do a thing called "work." Very strange. JANE: (rolling her eyes) But *Trent* got a call from her over an hour ago asking for *our* mother. He mentioned she was in traffic. DARIA: She wanted your mother? That's not just strange, it's downright disturbing. JANE: Your mom's supposed to be working, yet she's in her car? DARIA: She could've just gone on a dinner run. But for the hell of it, let's go with the less logical explanation: she's using work as a cover for going on some mad dash across the country. She wants your mother to be the Thelma to her Louise. JANE: If you were talking about anyone *other* than Helen, that might actually be plausible. DARIA: Sick and sadly enough. (Pause) But then again (brow creases with concern.) my mom hasn't been herself for so long, who knows what she'd do. JANE: She probably hasn't done anything. I shouldn't have planted that seed of paranoia in your brain. DARIA: But you just couldn't help yourself. (Bt) Of course if my mother *did* run off, where would she go?? (cut to: ) SCENE 4 (freeway, much later that night) (Overhead shot of the SUV heading toward an off ramp, against the backdrop of several skyscrapers. Cut to inside shot: Elvis is singing Simon & Garfunkel's "Bridge Over Troubled Water," while Helen drives with grim purpose.) (Cut to shot of the outside. The SUV now travels along a city street against the backdrop of a bay and [no pun intended] a bridge. The street is quiet, but not silent, given that it's past midnight and some people are returning from clubs, bars, or the theatre. Cut to inside shot of the SUV. Helen's determination gives way to anxiety and muted hopefulness. Cut to outside shot: she drives down a street past upscale houses and apartment complexes.) (cut to: ) SCENE 5 (a short time later) (Close-up of Helen, sitting in a chair, talking to someone off screen. She looks completely spent. Her eyes are red, with shadows underneath; some of her hair is astray, and she slumps against the side of the chair even as she makes frantic gestures to accent her speech.) HELEN: I'm sorry. I'm *so* sorry to be bothering you at this time of night. I was in the area, and you just happened to be in, and (musters a smile.) you told me the last time we were together that I could *drop* over any time. (Pan over to show a man, late-thirties to early forties, sitting on the couch nearby with his elbows on his knees. His brownish-blond hair is mussed from being against the pillow, and his light beard is accompanied by a five o' clock shadow. We recognize him from somewhere.) MAN: Well I might object (big yawn.) but I'm still not sure whether I'm awake or dreaming. (glances off to his right.) Do you see leprechauns dancing on her shoulders? (Pan over further to show *Amy*, the one whom he and Helen were both addressing, sitting in another chair, looking similarly bed-ruffled.) AMY: (sleepy) More like fluffy pink rabbits doing backflips. (to Helen.) It's not your *habit* to drop in on people after midnight, is it? (Cut to wide shot, revealing Amy's spacious living room as seen in "Through a Lens Darkly" and "Erin the Head," plus some extra furniture. Helen laughs in an airy and slightly unhinged manner.) HELEN: Oh-ho-ho-ho, Amy, don't be *silly*! (sly.) It's an honor I reserve for members of my family. AMY: (glancing at the man -- her boyfriend, Joel) Lucky me. HELEN: But listen, if you'd rather (face becomes slightly vulnerable.) I can stay in a hotel for the night. AMY: (brow creasing) I doubt the hotel reservation desks would be open at this hour. Besides, you're my sister: of *course* I want you to stay here. HELEN: (cheeks glowing) Thank you. AMY: (wicked smirk) Then I'll have you right where I want you. (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 6 (living room) (Cut to shot of Amy coming in through a doorway, carrying some pajamas. She rubs her eyes sleepily and stifles a yawn.) AMY: All right, we've cleared enough crap out of the guest room for it to *be* a guest room instead of a "multi-purpose" area. (wrinkles her nose.) Trust me: it's better you not ask. (Cut to shot of the couch where Helen is sitting, her back to Amy and the viewer. Amy comes over and lays the pajamas on top of the couch.) AMY: And these should fit you, (smirks.) even though my clothes were a little *snug* the last time you wore them. So I think... (notices the silence.) Helen? (Cut to close-up of Helen. She's huddled against one side of the couch, her face red and tears streaming down her cheeks. Amy makes her way around the couch and approaches her with some concern.) AMY: Hel-- (Helen reaches forward and grabs her sister around the waste. Pressing her face against Amy's side, she starts shivering and crying noiselessly. Amy looks down at her, stunned. Then she leans down awkwardly and lays her arms around her.) AMY: (whispering) It's okay... it's okay... I'm not *that* much thinner than you are. (This quip elicits no reaction from Helen, so Amy continues to hug her in and awkward, but soothing manner.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 7 (bedroom, 1-2 hours later) (Shot of Amy creeping into her darkened bedroom, making certain not to wake her beau. No such luck: as soon as she's put her glasses on the bedside table and lain down the left side of their queen-sized bed, Joel turns over.) JOEL: So, is your sister tucked in for the night? AMY: (nods wearily) Finally. JOEL: And how long will she be gracing us with her presence? AMY: Probably until I chase her out with a butcher's knife. JOEL: Try not to sever any fingers. (Amy snuggles beside him.) AMY: Can you handle being encroached upon for a night or two? JOEL: (nuzzling her neck) I have by you, haven't I? AMY: Excuse me, darling, this was *my* apartment. JOEL: So? *I* brought the fully-loaded PC you always use. To a science nerd, it's the same thing. AMY: Ha-ha. JOEL: Your sister's sudden appearance doesn't exactly fill me with joy, but I wouldn't toss her out when she's in distress. She's a lawyer: wouldn't that get me ten to twenty? AMY: Ooh, such compassion. JOEL: (sighs) But that kills any weekend plans we might have had, doesn't it? AMY: No big deal. We were never going to go hiking anyway -- not with your knee acting up and my mortal dread of mosquitoes. Besides (eyes widen.) dammit, that's right! JOEL: What? AMY: (with dread) Tomorrow's my date at the clinic. JOEL: Oh. Oh! You definitely can't miss that. AMY: (mumbling) Yes I can. It's not important. JOEL: What, are you crazy?? AMY: (annoyed) I guess I am. (She turns away from him and sinks half of her face into her pillow. Joel plays with a lock of her hair, expression fatigued.) JOEL: At least you can take comfort that it's genetic. AMY: No, I can't. (frowns.) I've never seen my sister like this. It's just short of terrifying. JOEL: Why? AMY: (frustrated) Why?? Because a lifetime of experience has taught me never to doubt Helen Barksdale Morgendorffer. She's as steady as my father. Back in the Sixties, she even plotted her decent into hippiedom. JOEL: Sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it? AMY: (reciting) "August 7, 1968: In four weeks I'll be a college freshman. Prepare for the Revolution by purchasing tie-dyed clothing, taking lessons in controlled burning, and brushing up on my Bob Dylan." JOEL: You're really serious. AMY: Completely. JOEL: That's bad. (cocks a mirthful brow.) Almost as bad as you *snooping* in her diary. AMY: I was a little sister. It would have been immoral for me *not* to stoop. (Bt) But the point is, if Helen crumbles, my entire worldview could change. JOEL: Why?? You're a steady person. AMY: Not like her. (Her tone contains an unconscious air of reverence, which Joel picks up on.) JOEL: She came to *you* with her problems, didn't she? AMY: Which brings us to the great mystery. Why *me*? (She rolls onto her back to face Joel.) We've seen each other *twice* the past year, and talk on the phone now and then for maybe fifteen minutes. That doesn't exactly a friendship make. JOEL: Maybe she doesn't do that with anyone else. AMY: (exasperated) Oh please: with all that she deals with in her life, I can't mean *that* much to her. (face falls.) If I *did*, wouldn't she have come to me sooner? JOEL: Not if she's as self-sufficient as you make her out to be. AMY: Maybe. (sighs.) In any case, I'd have probably handled it in the same bungled fashion as I did tonight. JOEL: Listen here, you: quit selling yourself short. You've got a *lot* to offer the world, including your sister. Maybe you mean more to her than you think. (Amy reaches over and strokes his hair fondly.) AMY: And maybe the sleep deprivation's affecting your brain. (fade-out. fade-in to:) SCENE 8 (Amy's place, Saturday) (Outside shot of the sky, suggesting that it's mid or late morning. Cut to close-up of Amy standing in a kitchen with terra-cotta counter titles and glass cabinets. Unlike her surroundings, Amy looks like an absolute wreck; even her glasses are slightly askew. She pours coffee absent-mindedly, into the sink instead of her mug before she realizes her error.) (Meanwhile, cut to close-up of Helen, still asleep in the guest bed. She looks as though she did not have a restful night. She lies in a fetal position, the blankets twisted around her, her face half-buried in the pillow. A few mumbled exclamations escape her mouth before she turns and opens her eyes. For a few moments she stares at the ceiling, then slowly sits up and looks around. Cut to her POV: the room around her looks fuzzy and distorted, filled with shadowy objects that have little relationship to one another. An exercise bike, a couple of old chairs, some packing boxes, bar bells, a clothes rack, and more. Helen looks at them with confusion, then down at her unfamiliar pajamas. Then everything comes back to her, causing her to groan and close her eyes. Just as Helen has pushed aside the bed sheets and risen, Amy appears in the doorway, sipping her coffee.) AMY: (deadpan) No, it's not a dream: you really *are* in Hell. HELEN: (rubs her eyes.) What time is it? AMY: (smirks) In Hell, it's always "late for work." HELEN: (looks at her watch) *Ten* o' eight?! AMY: Relax, Helen: it's the weekend. Or do you work Saturdays now? HELEN: I hardly *ever* sleep this late. I have to call my family. (She hurries toward her work clothes, which have been neatly laid out, her cell phone lying on top. Amy watches with amusement and curiosity.) AMY: Don't they know you're here? HELEN: (starts dialing) I told them I was working all night at the office. AMY: So they shouldn't be concerned you're gone. HELEN: (ear to the phone) Dammit -- busy. (lays down the phone.) No, but I should get home to them. Eric actually gave me some time off, some *real* time off. How could I waste the chance to spend it with my family?? AMY: (crossing her arms) And who am I? The mildew in your sink pipe? (Beat. Helen turns to look at her, gets a deeply apologetic expression.) HELEN: I'm sorry, sweetie. I didn't mean -- I just assumed you and your boyfriend would have made your own plans. AMY: (cocks a brow) Perhaps. Perhaps not. (Bt) So then you feel as though everything's been taken care of. HELEN: (face brightening) Oh yes. (comes over to Amy and lays a hand on her shoulder with gratitude.) I want to thank you for putting me here for the night. I honestly don't know what came over me. AMY: Brain seizure caused by cell phone radiation? HELEN: (rolls her eyes) Oh Amy... (She gives Amy a hug, which succeeds in disarming the Cynical Aunt. Her face softened, she watches as Helen walks back over to where her work clothes are gathered. Although Amy doesn't buy Helen's miraculous turn-around for one second, she decides not to press, at least for the time being.) AMY: It's too bad you couldn't stay an extra day. I could show you more than the confines of this place. HELEN: (stunned) This *is* the first time I've seen your home, isn't it? AMY: (smiles) *Any* of my homes since I stopped living with Mom and Dad. HELEN: I never realized. (Her forehead creases with discomfort.) There must be so much I don't know about your... (Something dangling from a handle bar or the exercise bike catches her eye. Helen reaches over and takes it, holds it up to Amy with a curious expression. Handcuffs.) AMY: (rolling her eyes) *Don't* ask. (Dissolve to a short time later. Still dressed in Amy's pajamas, Helen takes a stroll around the apartment. From the look on her face, it's clear she approves of Amy's taste. She moves from the hallway to the living room, taking a good look at the furniture and the modern artwork. Some of the furniture appears to be mismatched, as though it were added to an already completed set, but looks handsome nonetheless. Helen heads toward the bay window, from which the curtains have been drawn back, allowing one to view a leafy courtyard below and the city skyline and part of the ocean in the near distance. As she gazes out the window, Helen gets an expression that says, "It sure would be nice to wake up to *this* every morning." She then turns and looks at something off screen. At first Helen's face registers shock, but then it softens immeasurably. She stares at the object for a little while longer before turning around and heading toward the hallway. When she finds Amy pouring more coffee in the kitchen:) HELEN: You know, it wouldn't hurt me to stay a while longer. **************** END OF ACT ONE [Shot of Helen and Eric, followed by shot of Trent talking into the coffee pot, followed by shot of Jane and Daria on the phone, followed by shot of Helen holding out the handcuffs to Amy.] ***You are now entering commercial *HELL*. Please keep your seatbelt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.*** 1) "Next Monday, on the Ten Spot: It's the concluding half of 'All But Forgotten.' All of your questions will be addressed. Don't you hate two-parters?" 2) The commercials where the "teenager" tries to get people to buy a Penteum 3 processor. It was cute the first time, when he used sophisticated props to convince his dad, less cute when he started going door to door to convince other people's parents. And now that he's stopping people in public places... 3) I hope they've finally stopped running those karaoke ads. Is selling jeans really worth butchering the song "Downtown"? ***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?*** ACT TWO SCENE 1 (Morgendorffer residence, late morning) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Quinn standing in the kitchen, fishing a box of super-healthy bran flakes out of the cupboard. Just as she's getting a bowl, we see Daria walk past her to the sink, phone in one hand, plate of cake crumbs in the other.) QUINN: (eyeing the plate with disgust) Cake for breakfast *again*?? Can't you eat something *healthy*?? DARIA: I did. (lays her plate in the sink.) It's low-fat cake. QUINN: You're gonna end up like one of those *blob* people who can't do anything but sit in bed and watch T.V. all day. DARIA: At least that'd give me an excuse. QUINN: (smirks) If Mom saw you, you'd be in *so* much trouble. DARIA: Mom's not here. QUINN: *This* time. DARIA: No, I mean she's *not* here. Not here in town. (glances down at the phone.) She called while you were in the shower. QUINN: (surprised) Where is she? DARIA: At Amy's. QUINN: Why? Is Aunt Amy sick, or something? DARIA: (cocking a skeptical brow) Possibly. According to Mom, some crisis of Amy's compelled her to abandon work and drive up to be with her. QUINN: Sounds bad: she's never done that for us. DARIA: (as though her thoughts are elsewhere) Right. QUINN: I hope Amy's not having more problems with that Joel. Stacy told me she heard you could get *so* depressed after fighting with a guy, you only eat ice cream and wear the same baggy clothes. DARIA: Once again, you've failed to illustrate the downside. QUINN: So if Mom's with Aunt Amy and Dad's not around... I guess you and I are by ourselves again. (Her face loses some of its glow.) (Daria looks at her, and something in Quinn's expression causes her to think of something. She glances down at the phone again.) DARIA: Hold that thought: I'll be right back. (Daria heads upstairs with the phone. Quinn gets a look of abandonment.) (cut to: ) SCENE 2 (Amy's place, at that time) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Amy standing in front of a closet near the front door, trying to decide which coat to select. Helen walks over, tugging on the blazer Amy'd lent her, having ended the phone call with Daria minutes earlier.) AMY: (cocking a brow) You lied to your own child. HELEN: (ashamed, but resolute) Well I already lied to her *once*. No harm in finishing what I started. AMY: But you painted *me* to look like the basket case. How fair is that? HELEN: So you'd rather I tell her the truth: that her mom "lost it" and ran up to see you? She'd never let me forget it. AMY: You're giving Daria too little credit. HELEN: Once when I was weak with the flu, she got me to agree to *never* make her join an activity without a minimum bribe of thirty dollars. I even signed on it. AMY: (smirks) Clever girl. But surely she'd know this is different. HELEN: (quiet) I just don't want her to know. Any of them. (lowers her eyes.) They depend on me so much, I wouldn't want to give them reason to worry. (Amy cocks a brow with mild sympathy. Before she can say any more, we hear a musical ring in the next room.) JOEL: (walking on screen, buttoning his cuffs) Ame, isn't that your work cell? AMY: Yes. (sour look.) Tell people you don't *want* weekend calls and they'll think you're using reverse psychology. Hold on. (She leaves. Cut to shot of her moments later in her bedroom, picking up a cell phone which was lying carelessly on a chair and putting it to her ear.) AMY: (deadpan) You've reached Papa Risotto's Pizza Delivery Service, proudly roach-free for seven months. How may I help you? DARIA: (VO) You could start by not mentioning food hygiene. AMY: (surprised, but reacts quickly) Not even the flies in our secret sauce? (Split screen to show Daria turning green on the other end.) AMY: So how'd you find my secret number? DARIA: You left it for me in case of an emergency. This seemed like the right occasion. AMY: Household a wreck without Mom? DARIA: So my mom *is* with you? AMY: Yes. (Bt., surprised by her niece's question.) But if you want her back, I'll accept nothing less than ten thousand in small unmarked bills. DARIA: (can't think of a comeback) Was she with you last night? AMY: Why do you ask? DARIA: She wasn't at her office. Something Jane said made me check her work phone... a few times. (reddens.) When she didn't answer, I thought... (Beat) AMY: (gentle) She showed up here late last night. As far as I know, she never stopped anywhere else. (Daria exhales silently.) DARIA: Well that's nice to hear. (awkward.) So I guess I'll just go skipping off into the sunset. Sorry to bother you... AMY: (gently pressing) Daria? Is there anything I should know about? (Pause. Daria considers how much to tell Amy about the mood around her house over the past month, whether to go over her various speculations. Finally she reduces her concerns to their barest form.) DARIA: Just that my parents haven't exactly been getting along. (Bt) Not even enough to argue like they usually do. AMY: (frowning mildly) I see. (Beat) DARIA: Aunt Amy? You'll keep Mom from doing anything... she might regret... won't you? (Pause) AMY: (softly) You can count on it. (Cut to full-screened shot of Daria, shortly after the phone call. She gazes at the phone with a faintly reassured expression. Her thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice off screen.) JAKE: (VO) Gah! We're out of Sugared O's! (Daria swivels around to face the door and hops off the bed. Quickly, she leaves the room and heads downstairs.) (cut to: ) SCENE 3 (kitchen) (Cut to shot of Quinn seated at the counter, eating her cereal slowly. Her eyes are on Jake, off screen. Daria comes up and stands beside her. Pan to show Jake rummaging through the cupboard in search of edible cereal, dressed in a rumpled T-shirt and jeans... possibly last night's outfit. Cut to shot of Daria and Quinn. They glance at each other, silently communicating disturbed thoughts. Cut to shot of Jake. He pauses on Quinn's box of health cereal, shakes it slightly to see how full it is, then slides it back into the cupboard as if he'd never seen it.) JAKE: (goes over to the fridge) Dammit, there's not one *lousy* stinking thing to eat in this *whole* house! (opens the fridge door.) Ooh, cake! DARIA: It does a body good. (Jake takes the box out, glances around uneasily.) JAKE: What your mother doesn't know won't hurt her. You girls won't tell, will you? (Again, Daria and Quinn look at each other, bothered by their father's choice of words.) QUINN: Actually, Dad -- (She's quickly silenced by Daria, who feels it's the wrong time to mention that Helen has gone away.) DARIA: (different tactic) I think she might be more concerned with you breaking curfew, young man. JAKE: (distressed) Aww, but I *told* her before we left for work that I was gonna be out late last night! Don't tell me she forgot. DARIA: Um, you could say that. QUINN: (annoyed) You've been out, like, a *lot* lately. DARIA: Does this secret other family of yours make you change light bulbs into the wee hours of night? JAKE: (face bright red) "Other" family?? Wh-what do you mean?? QUINN: She's kidding, Dad. (Bt) I think? JAKE: Oh yeah. (chuckles uneasily.) Good one, kiddo. DARIA: (deadpan) Thanks. (Bt) So if it's not another family, what *is* making you burn the midnight oil? JAKE: (face lights up) Oh man, all *kinds* of stuff! I haven't felt so alive since I was back in college. You girls would love it! QUINN: Would you take us?? JAKE: Well su-- (His face falls, as if he's remembering something.) Um, actually, I don't think it'd be your thing. QUINN: But you *just* said -- JAKE: C'mon you guys (chuckles.) you never want to hang out with your old man. You're always busy with dates and T.V. and stuff. DARIA: (quietly acknowledging this) We'd make an exception in this case. JAKE: And Quinn, sweetie, don't you have that important math thing coming up? QUINN: The Advanced Placement test? But that's weeks away. JAKE: (uncomfortable) Well, um... no time to study like the present. DARIA: Dad, has it escaped your attention? We just *offered* to spend time with you. As in voluntarily. QUINN: (turning on the guilt-trip charm) Don't you want to enjoy the last fleeting moments of daddy-daughter bonding before Daria and I, like, head off into the sunset of college? DARIA: Or the penitentiary. JAKE: (guilty, yielding) Aw geez... you're right. I *should* spend more time with you guys. (Bt) Maybe you could hang with me when I do the weeding this afternoon. QUINN: Ewww, Dad! Not *chores*! JAKE: (confused) But you said -- DARIA: (cutting to the gist) What would be so bad about us coming with you on one of your outings? (She and Quinn both tensely wait for a response.) JAKE: (reddening) I'd like to, girls, I really would. (lays the now-empty cake box on the counter.) But... aw, I just *can't*! (distressed.) I don't think you'd ever understand, and you'd be *way* too mad at me, anyway. (lowers his head and walks away.) I'm sorry. (When he's gone, Quinn gets a look that verges on panic.) QUINN: He didn't even *ask* where Mom was. It's like he doesn't even *care*. DARIA: (more calm, but still alarmed) Now, now. Let's not jump to any conclusions. QUINN: (face falling) Okay. (Pause) So what do we do now? (Beat) DARIA: I'm going to call Jane. (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 4 (a fancy restaurant, noon) (Shot of a tall building with reflecting walls. Slow zoom in on the top floor. Cut to wide shot of the interior, showing several tables with fancy white cloths and nicely-dressed people seated at them, against the backdrop of a panoramic view of the city. Light piano music plays in the background. Cut to close-up of a waiter at one table, pouring coffee. He nearly spills it as the piano player suddenly hits several discordant notes all at once. Cut to another table. The people pause in the midst of eating their brunch as the piano player launches into a rendition of Queen's "We Are the Champions." Cut to shot of Amy and Helen, seated across from each other at a table near the window. Amy calmly sips a mimosa, while Helen glances off screen, blushing with mortification.) AMY: So did I mention that Joel's a talented musician? (Cut to shot of him seated at a grand piano not far away, plunking away at the keys with a lot of gusto, often striking the wrong ones.) AMY: (off screen) Just not on the piano. (Cut to shot of a waiter heading over to the maitre d', then whispering and looking at Joel with a menacing expression. Cut to shot of Amy and Helen, moments later. Amy smirks with amusement and sympathy as her boyfriend appears, looking his best to seem nonchalant.) JOEL: (sitting down) That should teach 'em to hold up our orders. AMY: Mr. Perfect couldn't master the piano keys in five minutes' time? I'm disappointed. JOEL: (sheepish) I swear they tuned that thing all wrong. (looks at Helen, smirks.) Geez, I'm an engineer, jazz clarinetist, conqueror of all two hundred levels of Internet Dragon Slayer, an interpreter of animal sounds -- AMY: And modest, too. JOEL: -- and it still isn't enough. You can't please this woman. (Amy reaches into her purse and takes out a twenty, which she slips him as she leans over to give him a smooch on the lips. They'd made a bet, and she'd lost. Helen looks as though she'd like to melt into her seat.) HELEN: (irritated, but can't hide a touch of amusement) You two make me feel like I'm out with my daughters. AMY: Funny: I thought Daria and Quinn would be more mature. HELEN: Does it even worry you that we might get thrown *out*? AMY: We won't, Helen, trust me. They know us here. HELEN: (rolling her eyes) And I suppose you'll tell me you've pulled these stunts before and nothing's come of it. AMY: Well if you mean the *same* stunts... JOEL: Only when we've been treated rudely. When threatening to not pay has no effect on them. AMY: When they have the gall to charge ten dollars for a plate of raw asparagus. JOEL: So about... (furrows his brow.) all but two times. HELEN: Then *why* even come? AMY: (incredulous) Are you kidding? (turns toward the window.) Would you look at the view?? (Helen groans and shakes her head. Joel looks meaningfully at Amy.) JOEL: Change of subject? AMY: Go for it. JOEL: (leaning back, smirking) So what do mature women like yourself do for fun, Helen? HELEN: (face lighting up) Oh many things. Especially -- (Inexplicably, her face loses its glow.) um... nothing. (Joel cocks a quizzical eyebrow and glances at Amy.) AMY: (gently prodding) You like sculpting, don't you? HELEN: I used to. (a little curt.) But not anymore. (Amy raises a brow at her tone, then glances at Joel, who makes another attempt.) JOEL: Yeah, some people get all the pleasure they need from their jobs. Amy told me you're one hell of a lawyer. HELEN: How sweet of her. (She smiles faintly at her sister, then her expression darkens into gloom once more.) (Joel shakes his head at Amy: "All right, *now* what??" "Damned if I know," her expression replies. Amy realizes she needs to confront what's bothering Helen, but now is not the time or place. As the waiter appears with their food, Joel gets another thought.) JOEL: All righty... (He spears his eggs and glances back and forth between Helen and his significant other.) Now that I've finally got more than one Barksdale sister here, I'm dying for answers to the many questions I have. (This shakes Helen out of her funk. With a hint of surprise and bemusement, she looks at Amy. Amy wiggles her brows.) AMY: Think we should indulge him? HELEN: If his questions get too personal, we'll plead the Fifth. JOEL: Amy's shown me photo albums of when you guys were young. So it's always been you three girls, right? HELEN: Yes. AMY: There was a fourth sister, but she broke with us over creative differences. JOEL: (knowing half-smirk) Was Amy really the lonely, neglected waif growing up that she makes herself out to be? (Amy rolls her eyes, a little annoyed by his choice of words.) HELEN: She certainly wasn't. The age difference may have contributed to her feeling left out, but she was no worse off than me or Rita. (pointedly.) In fact, I'd say she had a few things better. AMY: Ooh, do tell. HELEN: At least when *she* couldn't drive, she could always snap her fingers and one of us would chauffeur her around. AMY: Usually to someplace I didn't want to go. HELEN: She had a nice, *normal* childhood -- yes, you *did* -- in a quiet suburb with her whole family intact. She wasn't shuffled off to four new locations in six years where she had to make friends quickly if she wanted any at all. JOEL: That'd be no problem for you, right Ame? AMY: Wherever I go, popularity follows. HELEN: In that atmosphere, developing the right networking skills was essential. And *she* didn't have to hover about her mailbox or the phone waiting for some word from our father stationed overseas. AMY: (shadow on her face) Nope. I had to deal with him at home. JOEL: (to Helen) How often was he away? HELEN: A lot. (hint of pride.) Dad was a *very* important man in the armed services. They'd keep him abroad for months at a time, first in post-war Germany, then in Korea. There were a couple of years when we were lucky to see him for even a few months. AMY: Amazing he found time to sire his young. HELEN: (raising a brow at her) But at least he never forced us to relocate to another country. God knows how disruptive that would have been. Right before Amy was born, he retired from the army for good. AMY: To embrace his *true* love: aluminum siding. HELEN: Our family business, which he ran *very* successfully. AMY: (hushed) But not enough to forget what he gave up. HELEN: (to Joel) And so these early experiences explain why my family is so important to me, why I try to make time for them every evening. Because I remember what it was like to miss a parent and wonder when he'd be coming home -- (recalls her current situation.) I mean... I mean... (Helen gazes down at her food, looking very distressed. Joel looks at her as though he's sorry he brought up the subject. Amy's expression changes from peevish to sympathetic, and she tries to think of a way to ease the tension.) AMY: (smirk) All right, I plead "uncle." My childhood *wasn't* as overtly dysfunctional as Helen's was. (glances at Joel.) Or yours. JOEL: So it was covertly dysfunctional? AMY: By the time I came of age, it seemed like we'd been living in Rutherfold forever. We all had our little routines down. HELEN: (polishing off her mimosa) Routines? AMY: You know. (cocks a brow.) Mother was the happy society matron with a million activities that she claimed were all of dire importance, but you know were just an excuse to keep her out of the kitchen. (Helen lets out a little groan and looks at Joel as if to say, "What are we going to do with her?") AMY: Dad worked twelve hour days and even longer weekends. Rita had a knack for strategy games like chess, but wisely never let it shine through her homecoming queen persona. And as for you, my dear Helen -- HELEN: (bemused) Yes, what *was* I, Amy darling? Overworked? Stressed-out by too many activities and too much responsibility? Don't think for one minute I don't know what you're going to say. (Beat) AMY: You were someone who always strove to be something she wasn't. (Helen's eyes widen slightly; clearly she didn't expect that reply.) JOEL: (bemused) What kind of something? (Amy responds by tipping the last of her mimosa into her mouth.) (cut to: ) SCENE 5 (Pizza King, afternoon) (Shot of the outside. Zoom in on a sign in the window: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT.) QUINN: (OS) You mean someone's actually DIED from eating here?! (Cut to wide shot, where we see that Daria and Quinn are seated across from Jane in the booth. Jane groans and slaps her forehead.) JANE: For the thousandth time, no! DARIA: I told you we should go to the Flaming Chili Barn, but you just had to be adventurous. (She picks up a slice and eyes it warily before nibbling at the edge. Quinn, of course, avoids it altogether.) JANE: All right, we've established that you're beyond the point of denial, where your dad's extra-strange behavior could all be in your head. Correct? (Daria and Quinn nod slowly.) So what would be the harm in following him? DARIA: Besides risking our necks in the dead of night for evidence that could be inconclusive at best. QUINN: (emphatic) I won't go after midnight: cold night air is bad for the skin. DARIA: (to Jane) Then sneaking out after midnight it is. (This gets a smirk from Jane, but Quinn doesn't appreciate it. Her cheeks redden and her expression becomes irritated.) JANE: So have you given this prior thought? DARIA: Yes, but not seriously. I was too afraid of what I'd find. QUINN: (face brightening) Daria, maybe we could ask the Guptys to help us again. It worked the last time. DARIA: Well they *have* finally lifted that restraining order. But... (The expression on her face is clear: "This isn't like the last time." Quinn picks it up and nods quietly.) QUINN: Then maybe we should just *ask* Dad where he goes. Tell him it, like, hurts us that he keeps it a secret. DARIA: Good idea. (deadpan.) Please Dad, tell us where you go. It hurts me when you keep it a secret. (Jane erupts in a fit of chuckling.) QUINN: (frowning) *Fine*. Forget I said *anything*. (She slumps against the back of the seat.) JANE: Now, now, what's the worst thing that could happen if you *did* ask him? DARIA: Nothing... except he would evade. JANE: Even if you made your eyes all big and sweetie-poo? DARIA: Then he'd want my head examined. (sighs.) I've given him every opportunity to 'fess up, and each time he's come close, something has stopped him. JANE: Hey! Have you tried -- DARIA: His wallet is clean. JANE: Damn. DARIA: Following him is the only way to produce results, I guess. JANE: At least it'd be better than waiting for the other shoe to drop. (mischievous.) Be sure to go disguised. DARIA: (nods) All I need is my trusty accordion and a pet monkey. (Dissolve to sometime later. Daria and Jane have parted with Quinn, and are now walking up to the Lanes' front door.) DARIA: Thanks for agreeing to meet with us. JANE: Hey, I'm not *so* busy that I couldn't be there for you in your time of crisis. Tom would be, too, if his parents hadn't dragged him to some fundraiser. DARIA: Thus the true reason you were free. JANE: Oh come *on*, Daria, give me some credit. I felt really bad about skipping out on you the last time your parents had a marital split. DARIA: And missing the Guptys' vacuous meddling had nothing to do with it, I'm sure. JANE: This time I want to be there for *all* the dirt, dammit. (Her jovial mood dims somewhat as she opens the door.) Hey... I'm sorry I didn't tell you about your dad and the Greg thing sooner. DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) At least you waited until Quinn was gone. JANE: (contrite) It's just that as far as I could tell, nothing ever went on between Greg and your mother. (quickly.) And telling you would've meant telling you I was volunteering at your mother's art class in the *first* place, and she just seemed so happy sculpting, I didn't have the heart to make fun of her, and -- DARIA: I get it, Brittany. (defensive.) And I wouldn't've made fun of her. Once the novelty wore off. JANE: (softly) So, do you think the Greg thing is somehow connected? (Beat) DARIA: On the surface, it doesn't seem like it. Dad's the only one of my parents with the mysterious life. Unless it's a lot more twisted than it appears. JANE: Dare we think? DARIA: (rolling her eyes) Maybe my *dad's* having an affair with Greg. (cut to: ) SCENE 6 (driving along, afternoon) (Shot of the convertible traveling down a busy city street. Amy drives, while Joel rides shotgun and Helen sits in the back beside a clarinet case. Amy glances at Helen in the rearview mirror, and sees that her gloom has returned. She sighs inwardly.) (Dissolve to sometime later. The car is parked in the lot of a grand civic center composed of shiny glass buildings and outdoor theatricals. In the central court yard, Helen sits on a grey cinderblock, seemingly unmoved by clowns walking around her on stilts or a Middle Eastern folk band playing nearby. Amy and Joel sit off in a corner in an effort to avoid the crowd, observing.) JOEL: (noting Amy's concerned look) We can't make her stay if she doesn't want to. AMY: Who says I'm making her stay? She's the one who asked. (brow creases.) In all honesty, I think she's afraid to leave. JOEL: But has yet to tell you why? AMY: (nods slowly) I'll get it from her somehow. If she won't volunteer, I'll have to fire up my poker. (cocks a brow.) Besides, I made a promise. JOEL: Promise? AMY: To make sure she doesn't get into trouble. (lays a hand on her forehead.) God, it's like a fox promising to guard the hen house. (Joel squeezes her other hand and checks his watch.) JOEL: Damn, I'd better run. But while you hang out with your sister, you won't forget your own stuff will you? AMY: (rolls her eyes) Oh, right. JOEL: There's still time. AMY: I know. (Cut to shot of Helen, staring at her cell phone like she feels she should use it, but doesn't have the will. Moments later, Amy walks over to her, alone.) HELEN: Oh hi, Amy. (glances around.) Where did your boyfriend run off to? AMY: He'd made a prior date with his friend to work on their jazz medley, so he's taking the subway over. We'll see him later. HELEN: Oh. (Bt., uncomfortable) That wasn't the only prior commitment he'd made, was it? AMY: No, but the one to jam with Louis Armstrong fell through. HELEN: Amy, I'm serious. I keep feeling as though I've interfered with something. Two young, energetic people such as Joel and yourself *must* have made holiday weekend plans. AMY: Wow: "young" and "energetic". I'm truly flattered. (brow furrows.) But trust me: if you were in the way of something important, I'd have directed you back onto the interstate hours ago. HELEN: (relieved) All right. (She and Amy head toward the car. As they do so, Helen cocks a knowing brow at her sister.) HELEN: You know Amy, Joel doesn't come across in person the way you described him to be. AMY: What do you mean? HELEN: Controlling? Exacting? Intrusive?? AMY: Oh, that. (blushes a bit.) HELEN: You two are on such a similar wavelength, you practically finish each other's sentences. Now *what* could be wrong with that? (quieter.) We should all be so lucky. AMY: There's *nothing* wrong with that; that's part what's held our relationship together, even when everything else sucked. HELEN: Things are better now, though, right? AMY: (nodding) We still have our moments, but yeah. (Bt) Say, since it's just us girls, maybe we should go refurbish our wardrobes. (eyes Helen in her borrowed clothes.) You could do with a couple of sequined bras. HELEN: (rolls her eyes) Or at least we can go someplace you want to go now. AMY: (frowns) What makes you think I don't like being here? HELEN: Every place we've been, you've seemed so detached, I just thought these were Joel's favorite spots. AMY: *I've* seemed detached... (The color in her cheeks suggests that her sister's analysis is more accurate than she'd care to admit.) Well I do have spots that are nearer and dearer to my stone heart. HELEN: Are we going to see them? AMY: That depends: will you tell me what brought you to visit? (She and Helen seat themselves in the car.) HELEN: I don't suppose you'd have told me about these special places if I hadn't asked? AMY: Helen, we're alone. You don't have to be self-conscious. HELEN: (closes her eyes) Oh Amy, we're not back at Square One, are we? AMY: Asks the woman who hasn't answered my question. HELEN: *Please* tell me you would have said something! (Amy's eyes widen at her intensity.) AMY: Okay. HELEN: I'm sorry. It's just after the last two times we spent together, I've felt a lot closer to you then I have in a long time, maybe more than I ever have. It's as if we could finally speak to each other as adults. AMY: (blushing faintly) Oh? HELEN: And I'd hate it if any more secrecy or misunderstandings popped up to diminish that. So please... if there's anything you're holding back, if any new problems with Joel surface, I hope you would trust me enough. (Amy's face softens.) AMY: Very well. But you *do* realize trust is a two way street. (Helen looks at her, nods gravely.) If you thought by choosing to hide out with Baby Sis, you could avoid your problems, think again. You've been falling in and out of a funk all day, and it's time you came clean. HELEN: I know, I know. (meek sarcasm.) Though after what you said in the restaurant, I thought you had me figured out. AMY: Maybe you'll prove me wrong. (Bt) Is it about work? (Helen gets a melancholy expression. Sensing she's about to hit gold, Amy probes deeper.) AMY: What happened at work? HELEN: You mean what *didn't* happen? (sighs.) But my troubles at work are really just the latest in a series of setbacks. AMY: What kind of setbacks? At home, too? (Bt) With Jake? (Helen closes her eyes, her expression pained and overwhelmed. Amy lays a hand on her arm.) AMY: Shhh, just take it slow and start from the beginning. HELEN: (short laugh) I don't even think I know where that is. AMY: When did you first start feeling like this? HELEN: Who knows?! But I do know that I want it to go away, because I can't *live* like th... (Suddenly she gets a stunned expression.) AMY: What is it? (Helen turns slowly and looks Amy over.) Helen? HELEN: (quiet) You. AMY: What? You can't live like me?? HELEN: It was you. I kept wondering what my main reason for visiting was, and now I know: you're the cause of my problems. You *started* everything. AMY: (winces at her angry tone) You're not just looking for a convenient villain? HELEN: (resolute) My life was perfectly content until you came to visit that one weekend. Since then, one thing after another has gone wrong. (Amy just stares at Helen with disbelief, before her typical cynicism reasserts itself. She twists her key in the ignition.) AMY: Well this I've gotta hear. I should have known you didn't come just to confide in me. (fade-out. fade-in to:) SCENE 7 (Morgendorffer residence, later) (Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Daria standing next to her bed, looking over several "going-out" provisions with a dubious expression.) QUINN (off screen) Hey Daria, before you go out on your scavenger hunt tonight, there's something you may want to do. DARIA: What? QUINN: Reconsider. (She walks up to Daria, holding a sheet of yellow paper.) QUINN: (note of triumph) I know you, like, think you thought of everything when you went through Dad's wallet and his other stuff, but you neglected to check his briefcase. DARIA: It has a combination lock. QUINN: Daria, Daria, Daria, it's all numbers. You just have to find the right ones. DARIA: (rolls her eyes) Thanks so much for the enlightenment, Sir Isaac. QUINN: And a really good nail file. (She hands Daria the sheet of paper, which Daria reads carefully.) DARIA: "The Great Chili Cook-Off and T-Ball Tournament, held at..." Well at least we know where he's going tonight. QUINN: And we know who he's going *with*. (She turns the paper over, revealing barely-legible handwriting. It reads: "As always, I'll look forward to seeing you tonight, Jake. And in case you forgot again, my number is...") (Daria and Quinn look at each other. Daria clears off the bed and they both sit down. Daria reaches for the phone, then pauses to gage Quinn's response. Quinn nods tensely.) DARIA: (as she dials) There's something familiar about this handwriting. QUINN: Hmm, yeah. (The phone rings a few times, then: ) VOICE: Who shall I ask is CALLING?? (The volume and the force of the voice catch Daria off guard, and she drops the phone onto the bed.) VOICE: PerHAPS I didn't make myself CLEAR. (Daria and Quinn gaze at each other, stunned. The phone is loud enough for them both to hear.) VOICE: When a person CALLS, said person must IDENTIFY himself! Only an IDIOT would think otherwise! Is that YOU, Kevin?! (Hurriedly, Daria places the phone back on its hook.) **************** END OF ACT TWO [Shot of Jake with Daria and Quinn in the kitchen, followed by shot of Joel playing the restaurant piano, followed by shot of Helen and Amy in the car, followed by shot of Daria dropping her phone onto the bed.] ***You are now entering commercial *HELL*. Please keep your seatbelt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.*** 1) Gah, and those annoying commercials where you see women in tears as they confess to their Rite-Aid pharmacist that they have some life- threatening disease. "I just can't believe it," one woman quivers, "I have breast cancer." "Talk to me anytime," the pharmacist assures her. Hello?? Why does that not ring true to me? A pharmacist at a chain store is not the same as a therapist or a registered nurse. I doubt real people with these diseases would get this level of compassion. And why do they only show *women*? Where are all the men quivering with tears?? "I just found out I have prostate cancer. I feel so vulnerable." "My hair transplant didn't take... I don't know who to turn to." 2) And just to get back on my soap box one last time: no way am I going to pay heed to that new ad campaign with the sand running out of the hour glass, stating that my biological clock is running out of time. I'll have a family when/if I'm good and ready, thank you. 3) The new TV season will soon be upon us. For me it feels as though it's already well under way, given that here in Tinsel Town, they've been shooting for several weeks. I can broadcast a dim future for some of the new shows based on trailers alone. "Bob Patterson," a show I interviewed for back in July: the premise looks funny, like if Stuart Smiley got his own show, but the execution is lacking. When Bob Patterson (Jason Alexander) talks to a patient using O'Neill-esque language -- "I wish to communicate to you about your inability to communicate" -- it just fell flat. Oh well, anything's better than "The Michael Richards Show." And "Emeril"? "Emeril"?? A sitcom about the cooking show guy? That one's dead before it gets off the ground. Of course, they said that about "Nikki," too... ***You are now leaving commercial *HELL*. Aren't you happy you survived?*** ACT THREE SCENE 1 (Continuation of previous scene) DARIA: Well, well. Mr. DeMartino. QUINN: (pale) Oh God, our teacher. DARIA: So is this a one-time meeting, or is he the one who's been keeping Dad from Mom? QUINN: And what could Dad be telling him about *us*?? DARIA: (annoyed) Quinn, I really don't think that's an issue right now. (Bt) Oh God: what *could* Dad be telling him about us? QUINN: You know, sometimes I'll be sitting in Mr. DeMartino's class, and he'll come up and, like, give me this strange look. This "I know something *you* don't know" look. (gasps.) What if he's plotting to use the info *against* us?? DARIA: The info that Quinn Morgendorffer wet her bed until she was ten years old? Don't worry: if he threatens to go public, it won't be because he heard it from Dad. (She smirks slightly, wiggles her lids, and ignores Quinn's murderous expression.) QUINN: (upset) *Dammit*, Daria, be serious! This is just too *weird*. DARIA: (more sober) I know. QUINN: Of *all* the people Dad could pick for a friend, it had to be someone *we* knew! (panicking.) God, what if people at school see them together and realize Dad is my *dad*?? I could live down glasses and being on the geek squad and you, but after this, I'd be dropped out of school! DARIA: (sharp) Hey, count your blessings. QUINN: Why?! DARIA Because Dad's hanging out with a friend and not having an affair. (mounting relief.) Or blowing money at the race track, or hooking up with a gang of cross-dressing motorcycle thugs. If it earns me some extra humiliation, so be it. Not like I'd know the difference. (Quinn considers her words, and realizes how petty she sounds. She nods, her cheeks coloring with relief.) QUINN: (sighing) I just don't get it, though. Mr. DeMartino's a scary, nasty, *oily* guy who could *not* dress to save his life. What could Dad like about him?? DARIA: It does boggle the mind. QUINN: Mom's way better. (Beat) DARIA: (weary) Dad might not *always* hang out with him. For all we know, he hangs out with the other teachers, too. QUINN: (instantly pale) Oh God, no! Don't even mention them! DARIA: (musing) Reading bad poetry with Mr. O'Neill, doing equations with Mr. Phelps, holding an apple on his head for Ms. Barch. One big happy school jambor-- QUINN: (plugging her ears) Cut it *OUT*! DARIA: Quinn, we have to accept the fact that there may be other teachers involved. QUINN: (miserable) No, Daria! This is hard *enough*! DARIA: I know it is, Quinn, but if we want to help Dad come back home to you, me, and Mom, we need to prepare for the worst. QUINN: It's not fair. (squeezes her eyes shut.) It's just *not* fair. DARIA: We'll get through this. (sighs.) So prepare for a *two* man expedition to visit Dad. (Quinn hesitates, then nods with a pained expression.) (fade-out. fade-in to:) SCENE 2 (a bar, at that same time) (Shot of the outside: one of those Hard Rock Café types of establishments. Interior shot reveals a dimly-lit, colorful atmosphere, in which rock music plays softly from the corner speakers. Helen and Amy sit in one of the corner two-person booths. Helen pokes at her own food while watching Amy stuff chili cheese fries into her mouth and gulp down a beer. Her brow is creased with guilt: since she cast blame on Amy for her current dilemma, her sister has barely spoken. Helen extends her hand a little as if to comfort her, then thinks better of it.) HELEN: Amy? (She is greeted with a polite, but cold, expression.) Look, honey, it's not all your fault. You probably didn't know what you were doing. But somehow, the things you did just wreaked a lot of havoc in my life. (Dissolve to flashback of a scene from "The Tie That Chokes." Amy reaches over and snatches Helen's cell phone away from her and starts talking into it, the sound muted.) HELEN: (VO) Like, when you wanted to go out with me for the evening, you thought nothing of breaking up a conversation with my boss. (imitates.) "Gee Helen, why are you working so hard? Work's not the most important thing on earth, you know!" AMY: (VO) I never sound *that* chipper. HELEN: At least I got you to break your silence. AMY: Hmph. (Another flashback from "The Tie That Chokes." Amy sits with Daria in the living room, both looking pleased with each other's company. Helen watches in the background, eating Chinese and putting tremendous pressure on her chopsticks.) HELEN: Then there was your rapport with Daria, how you could get her to open up to you without any struggle. (Cut to an alternate flashback scene in "That Thing You Say," where Helen and Daria are angry at each other over the kitchen table.) HELEN: If she didn't with me, it must have meant I was doing something wrong. AMY: (irritated) Helen, we've been through this -- HELEN: Please. Just let me finish. (Dissolve to a scene from "None in the Family, Part Two." Helen, Amy, Rita, and their mother are seated in their living room. Amy talks, the sound muted. Helen and Rita listen, wearing grim expressions.) HELEN: And then there were those points you made about Dad being a bad father to us -- AMY: *Wait*, wait! (Abrupt return to the present. Amy's face burns with resentment.) AMY: First of all, I never said that Dad was a *bad* father. Second, that was from an entirely different weekend. If you're going to blame me, at least get your facts straight. HELEN: (shaking her head) I know, I know, but don't you see?? In all three cases, with total audacity you took solid beliefs I had and turned them inside out. That my work couldn't be put off, that I'd achieved as satisfying a relationship with my family as I could expect, that Dad was... flawless. AMY: (confused) I didn't act any differently from how I've always acted. HELEN: (after a Pause) Yes. I guess you're right. (Bt) But something about what you did really stuck with me those times. And once the thoughts were there, they never went away. Like with work... (Dissolve to shot of Helen at work, we presume not long after Amy's visit and the resolution of their fight in "That Thing You Say." She's sitting at her desk, pouring through briefs. Dissolve to the second spoke in the work cycle: Helen pacing the floor, dictating to Marianne, her expression cross. Dissolve to the third spoke: Helen sitting in at a lunch meeting with the other lawyers of her firm, listening while one of the elder Schrecters drones on and on. Dissolve to the fourth spoke: Helen talks loudly and insistently into her cell phone while driving home from work. Repeat these scenes over and over again, with Helen growing more stressed out, overwhelmed, and impatient each time.) HELEN: (VO) I couldn't understand it. How could I have been content with work one week and dreading it the next? (Flashback/fantasy shot of Helen at her desk, surrounded by stacks of briefs that tower above her. She slowly gazes up at the top one -- only to see it crash down on top of her, along with the others. They cover her like floodwaters. Cut to shot of Helen in her SUV, vigorously shaking her head to rid herself of this scene. At this point, she doesn't look as tired as she looked in Act One, but she's getting there.) HELEN: Nothing had changed; my role was exactly the same. AMY: Maybe *that's* how. It must get pretty tiresome having to work so hard for career advancement and never get it. HELEN: (after an irritated Pause) I tried to make the feeling go away. "Mind over matter," I told myself. You can handle *anything* if you just think positively. (Cut to flashback shot of Helen. With renewed determination, she opens up one of her briefs and starts to read. Then... moments later, she lays it aside.) HELEN: But it didn't happen. (uncertain.) I guess... well maybe the reason was that I'd grown bored. (Flashback shot of the Morgendorffer residence.) HELEN: Still I thought, "Work will pick up. In the meantime, I'll *finally* have an excuse to be with my family." And I *did* spend time with them... (Cut to shot of the Morgendorffers at dinner. Everything seems normal. Helen observes Jake, Quinn, and Daria as she eats.) HELEN: Of no less quality than any other time we'd spent together. Even Daria and I were talking more than we had ever been. (Pause) But still... (Cut to Helen's POV: a distorted lens makes everyone else seem farther away than normal.) HELEN: Something was missing. I don't know what it was. (cross.) But I'll bet I never would have *felt* it if it weren't for you. Oh you just *had* to get along so famously with my kids, making me feel inadequate as a parent -- AMY: Helen, if I may. (Cut to shot of her and Helen in the present.) I'm going to wager that my visit didn't plant thoughts in your head so much as bring doubts you already *had* to the surface. (Helen's brow creases with discomfort at Amy's explanation. If it's true, it means her current situation is a lot darker than she thought.) HELEN: Perhaps so. (sighs.) Maybe it *wasn't* anyone's fault. How could I blame Daria for not wanting to be smothered every moment we were home together? (Cut to shot of an anxious Helen chasing a wary Daria in the opening scene of "Breaking the Mold.") HELEN: (VO) Any more than I could blame Jake and Quinn for bonding over Quinn's studies. Any more than I could blame Jake... (Cut back to the present. Helen gets a pained expression and lapses into silence. Amy watches her, wondering whether to plunge in and ask Helen to elaborate, or wait for her to reveal it on her own.) AMY: (gentle and hesitant) So if you came here thinking I was the cause of your problems, what did you expect me to do? (Pause) HELEN: I don't know. Maybe I wanted to do something to *you*. Hurt you to make you feel what I've been feeling. (Amy blinks, but doesn't show much emotional response.) HELEN: But mostly, I guess I wanted you to help make everything normal again. (squeezes her eyes shut.) I don't know why this had to come out now, *this* year. Your fault or not, it's like you said: you've always been *you*, and it never used to effect me. And I've always been the person who strives for a distant goal and looks on the bright side of things. I've had serious problems before, but I've handled them. Why can't I do that this time?? (Pause) What will happen if I don't? (Amy can't answer. Like last night, she's overwhelmed by her sister's emotional display, which is more intense and less amusing than her outbursts during their parents' fiftieth. Helen struggles to prevent a public breakdown. She notes her sister's silence, and her face wilts.) HELEN: You think this is all just a midlife crisis. AMY: (faint smirk) Hormonal changes, actually, but midlife crisis works just as well. HELEN: Must everything be a joke to you?! AMY: No. Of course not. (slight edge in her tone.) Helen, I don't know what to say -- except that if I were in your shoes, I'd be no less confused. Your problems *do* seem too scattered to have a distinct cause or solution. (Pause) HELEN: That's not entirely true. (Amy looks at her inquisitively.) You see, a while back I joined my first sculpting class. At first it was just to prove a point to Daria, but later it took on a whole new meaning. And I met this man... (Cut to flashback shot of Greg taking Helen's hands and teaching her how to properly mold clay in "Breaking the Mold.") HELEN: (VO) He turned out to be an art instructor, so once this class ended, I took one of his. Like his art, he proved to be open to everything and honest with everyone. And I... (There is a sudden explosion of sensory images, as though we're seeing what Helen thinks when she's experiencing a creative surge. The final image is of her kissing Greg at the end of "An Uneasy Marriage." It finally bursts, revealing Helen guilty and anguished in the present.) AMY: I see. (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 3 (driving out of town, late evening) (Shot of Trent's car riding along the same woodsy road as in "Legends of the Mall." Cut to shot of the inside, where we see Jane driving and Daria shotgun. Quinn sits in the back, her legs drawn up on the seat.) QUINN: (after a few moments of silence elapse) Daria? DARIA: Yes? QUINN: You... no... it's nothing. JANE: So ends a stirring conversation. DARIA: Much like the ones we have each day at home. QUINN: I was just wondering again why Dad would spend all his nights with Mr. DeMartino. DARIA: You mean besides to humiliate you? QUINN: (disquieted) Do you think he likes him better than you, me, and Mom? (Daria's expression becomes grim, as if she were pondering the same thing.) DARIA: And how did you arrive at that conclusion? (Quinn draws her legs closer to her chest.) QUINN: I don't know. Mr. DeMartino's a guy like Dad. (Pause) Maybe he's like the son Dad never had, or something. JANE: (shuddering) *That* would be downright bone-chilling. DARIA: It's true they share the male preference for scratching and spitting, but I doubt even *our* dad would hold that in higher esteem than the attention of his family. QUINN: I hope not. (brow creases.) Because if he did, I don't think I'd want to see him. I think I'd... sort of hate him. (Daria doesn't respond. She glances at Jane, cocks an eyelid.) QUINN: (awkward) I mean after he started helping me with math, I sort of felt like I was getting to know him better. And, like, I thought he was having fun and everything, because I was. (frustrated.) But I guess he *wasn't*, because one night he wasn't there and then he wasn't there all the nights after that. If he didn't want to help me anymore he should've just *told* me! (Her face turns bitter and anguished. Daria and Jane exchange glances.) DARIA: Maybe he thought you no longer wanted to work with him. QUINN: Huh? Why would he think that?? DARIA: He never actually said it, but who *wouldn't* think so after seeing how much time you spend with your *other* mentor? QUINN: I do not spend *that* much time with Mr. Phelps! If this is gonna be another one of those -- DARIA: (rolling her eyes) For God's sake, Quinn, it's not -- JANE: Yo, if you two are gonna have a catfight, save it 'til you're outside. Not that Trent's car would look any worse for it, but I can't aim a camera and concentrate on the road at the same time. DARIA: Oh sure, spoil our fun. (Everyone falls silent for several seconds.) DARIA: (finally, to Quinn) You're not to blame for Dad's secret life. I don't know who's to blame. Maybe we all are. (Cut to the outside. The woods have dispersed, and a sign at the side of the road states that they have crossed the county line. Trent's car sputters down a tree-lined street that gives way to several storefronts.) DARIA: (glancing out the window) You sure this is the right way? JANE: This is where the park mentioned in the flier is located. (Bt) Look, there it is. (She pulls up in front of a park next to a community center. Even if Jane hadn't pointed it out, Daria and Quinn would have known it was the park in question, due to the large banner framed by balloons, groups of people walking across the grass toward the baseball diamond, a cloud of smoke pouring from a barbecue, and absolutely no parking spaces nearby. As soon as Jane pauses the car, Quinn scoots over to one door and opens it.) QUINN: Ugh, get me out of here! It smells like someone *died*! JANE: (cryptic look) Funny story, really... (Quinn climbs out and slams the door.) DARIA: (sardonic) I, too, would like to thank you for driving us. JANE: No problem. Now comes the hard part: finding your dad and the Terminator. DARIA: (sighing) I almost hope we *don't* find them. (She pauses a few moments before climbing out herself. She and Jane both watch the groups of people, mostly men, walk toward the park from the street. Daria gets a funny look on her face.) DARIA: Jane? (Pause) When Quinn asked if Dad liked DeMartino better, I started thinking... (Jane glances from the men to Daria, and catches her meaning.) JANE: Daria, perish the thought! So you see a bunch of guys walking toward the party -- tee-ball and chili are stereotypical *guy* things. And even if they were all headed for a Betty Crocker cook-off, it doesn't mean anything. It's *circumstantial*. DARIA: I suppose. JANE: Look how many people have mistaken *us* for being that way just 'cause we're not girly. DARIA: Yeah. You're right. (Cut to shot of the outside. Two men walk past Trent's car, holding hands.) JANE: (VO) Maybe they just don't want to, um, lose each other in the crowd. DARIA: (VO) And maybe I'm a natural blonde. (cut to:) SCENE 4 (driving home, at the same time) (Cut to shot of Amy and Helen in the car, headed back toward Amy's street. Amy focuses on the road, while Helen sits slumped over in the shotgun seat, watching the scenery whirl by.) HELEN: This entire day... this whole trip, really... just hasn't seemed real. It's as though someone *else* has been talking to you -- like any moment now I'll wake up and it'll be Tuesday morning and I'll get ready for work and Jake and the girls will stagger into the kitchen as I'm about ready to leave. (Amy looks deep in thought over Helen's dilemma, and something else as well.) HELEN: Of course, ever since *it* happened, that seems to be less and less the norm. (Bt., determined.) But dammit, it can become the norm again if I want it to be! I just have to quit feeling sorry for myself, right? (Pause) AMY: You want my honest opinion? (Helen's enthusiasm instantly fades.) I don't think you can put things back the way they were, and I don't think *you* think so, either. (more gentle.) And in spite of the pain and confusion you're feeling, do you really believe it'd be better to go back? (Helen mulls this over as Amy pulls her car into a garage. She looks as though she's readying one reply when another comes out.) HELEN: I just hate what this could be doing to my poor girls. Daria and Quinn are both smart enough to sense there are problems at home. It hurts to think they could be suffering. (cut to: ) SCENE 5 (the Chili Cook-off and T-Ball Tournament) (Shot of Daria and Jane steering between through the groups of mostly male attendees. Daria hovers behind Jane slightly, wearing a pained, slightly awkward expression.) DARIA: I'm just glad my mother doesn't know about this. (Jane turns to look at her, exasperated.) JANE: Quit being so freakin' paranoid, Daria. This just looks like a male-bonding frenzy to me, nothing your meat-and-potato Lawndalite would find unusual. DARIA: Then why hold it in the next county, and not in Lawndale? JANE: Maybe 'cause not all these people are *from* our blessed burg? If this is one of those Promise Keeper outfits, don't be surprised if the leaders were flown here from a mountain in Appalachia. (This quip doesn't even merit a cocked eyelid from Daria.) And heck, maybe that's *all* this is. Maybe your father and DeMartino are *finally* learning be comfortable with their masculinity and to control their inner demons. (Daria looks at her.) JANE: You're right: being gay lovers is more plausible. (She glances ahead.) But *unlikely*. See, look at that guy over there flirting with Quinn. (Pan over to show an attractive, well-dressed man leaning against a tree, while Quinn stands beside him wearing a coquettish look.) QUINN: Oh come *on*, a cute guy like *you* doesn't have a girlfriend?? Not even a trophy girlfriend to make the other guys jealous?? GUY: (faint disdain) I don't need a girlfriend for *that*. (Cut to brief close-up of Jane and Daria, frowning a little with worry.) QUINN: You know, I'm not doing too much this weekend. Aside from some math drills and a few other dates... GUY: (rudely) No thanks. I've got other plans. (He walks away quickly, leaving Quinn to pout with indignation. Cut to shot of Daria and Jane.) JANE: So maybe he considers himself to be too deep for someone like Quinn. (Cut to brief shot of the guy. He suddenly belches loudly and scratches his crotch.) JANE: So anyway... (Daria takes a good, long look around her. Zoom out to show the crowd filled with unfamiliar faces.) JANE: What say we just nip this mystery in the bud once and for all and *ask* someone what this is? DARIA: (deadpan, but with some trepidation) And spoil the fun of not knowing? (sees Jane's annoyed expression and sighs.) All right, all right... (They walk over to a few men standing near the baseball diamond. Jane clears her throat loudly, causing them to look her way.) JANE: So fellas, what's the occasion for all this? MAN: Nothing much. Just the chance for some guys to get together. JANE: Er, in what way? MAN 2: Many ways. MAN 3: (grins) Many *adventurous* ways. (Jane pales, not liking where this line of questioning is going. Daria rolls her eyes and takes over.) DARIA: (to the point) Is this a gathering for a men's club? MAN: Yes. And no. DARIA: (annoyed) How can it be both?? MAN 2: You two don't look much like guys. DARIA: That's *not* what I meant. MAN 3: Look, we told Prof it'd be nice if we could take some time off away from class and hang out, get to know one another. (Daria looks at Jane, exhales slowly.) DARIA: So this is just for a class? MAN 3: Two, actually. The Prof invited one of the other prof's classes to join us. DARIA: So it's not... MAN 3: (confused) Didn't your daddy tell you when he brought you here? (sees Daria's bland look.) Isn't that why you came? DARIA: (quiet) My dad didn't really tell me anything. JANE: This "prof" sounds pretty understanding, if I do say so myself. (All three men beam.) MAN: Yeah, he sure is. You wouldn't know it, since he tends to get easily pissed off, but he cares about his students. He'll spend hours talking to us after class lets out. JANE: (putting two and two together) And this prof, does he shout a lot? When he quivers with rage, does his eye bulge? MAN: (pausing to think) Hmm, I guess you could say it does. (Jane looks at Daria, raises a brow. Daria nods, also putting two and two together. Off screen, there's a cracking sound as bat meets ball. Cheering is heard all around, and we cut to a shot of a middle-aged male crossing home plate. He jogs toward the three men and Daria and Jane.) MEN: Yeah-heyyyy! All *riiiight*! (They slap the guy's ass with, perhaps, a bit too much enthusiasm as far as Daria and Jane are concerned. They start to get worried again.) DARIA: (slowly) So just what kind of class are you guys --? QUINN: (off screen) Daria! Look! (Cut to shot of Quinn, who's been standing close by, listening in on the conversation. She wears a semi-horrified expression, points off screen at home plate. Daria and Jane both turn to look, and sure enough, we see Jake for the first time, emerging from a dugout that is partially hidden from view. He's wearing a faded T-shirt and jeans and a baseball cap turned backwards. With vigor and enthusiasm, he swings an aluminum bat.) JAKE: Aw riiiight! Stand back 'cause old Jakey's really gonna *whack* it! DARIA: (hand to her forehead) Oh God. I should have known. (In preparation, Jake beats his bat against the ground -- one time so hard, it sends pain shocks through his hands and causes him to drop the bat. He yelps with pain. Daria cocks a brow: "Typical Dad." Just then DeMartino bounds out of the dug-out, claps Jake on the back.) DeMARTINO: (with more warmth than we're used to hearing) It's all *right*, Jake, my man. Just let the aDRENaline run through ya, don't try to force it. An' know I'll be cheering you *on* from the SIDELINES. VOICES ALL AROUND: Yeahhhh Prof! Whoo-hoo! JAKE: (warm gratitude) Thanks, Tony! This one's gonna be for you. (Daria watches, expressionless, as Jake beams at DeMartino and claps his shoulder in an almost hug. He then walks up to the tee, swings fiercely amidst whooping and hollering, and nails the ball into left field. As the outfielders try to snare it, Jake pumps a fist in triumph and rounds first base.) DeMARTINO: Yeahhhhh, Jake! That's my boy! That's my Jake. (pumps a fist.) Yeahhhhh! (Jake pauses at second, leaning over with his hands on his knees, panting and wheezing. Daria looks from DeMartino to her father, and suddenly it's too much: she turns and walks away.) JANE: (looking after her) Daria?? Where are you *going*?? (Daria doesn't stop until Jane restrains her by gripping her shoulder. Cut to shot of Quinn, glancing between Daria and her father, also concerned.) DARIA: (glowering) I've found out what my dad's been up to. Now we can leave. JANE: Well okay, but you're acting like you just saw your dad and DeMartino do a liplock. So your dad likes male bonding. So he's in a class taught by DeMartino that's frequented by other guys. So it's not such a big, scary revelation after all. DARIA: (turning slowly) No Jane, that's just it. It's not a revelation. JANE: Huh? DARIA: I feel as though I know even less about my dad now than I did before, which was hardly anything at all. (angry.) If he's just part of a class, why the hell did he try to hide it from the rest of us?? And if there's more... (winces, finds it painful to get the words out.) why didn't he say something about *that*, too?? (They walk over to a nearby tree and Daria leans back against its trunk.) DARIA: Dammit, he's my *father*. He's not supposed to keep secrets from us. And Mom: she lied to me, too. Isn't there *anyone* out there who's got nothing to hide?! JANE: (smiles, sympathetic) Ah Daria, you and your never-ending quest for an honest man. DARIA: (devoid of sarcasm) Quest, nothing. They should have told us the truth, Jane. What they're up to could have major impact on our family, yet they're too selfish to let me and Quinn come to terms with it. Well I can't take this. I'm *sick* of it. I can't take it anymore. (Jane looks at her friend, with her red cheeks and anger glittering in her eyes, and recognizes warning signs.) JANE: (softly) Please Daria, calm down. Don't run away from this. I know it's what made you hide out with the underground paper, but you'll be making a mistake if you don't face it head on. (She waits for Daria's expression to become less intense.) Your parents are human beings, and as such they're sickeningly complicated and annoyingly mistake-prone. DARIA: Ooh, what a revelation. JANE: But no matter what, just trust that they love you. They're not doing this on purpose to hurt you and Quinn. Let that be your foundation, okay? (Daria takes a few moments before responding.) DARIA: All right. (nods slowly.) And my aunt Amy's looking after my mother. I know she wouldn't hurt me, either. (Jane nods, relieved that the bad moment has passed. Cut to shot of Quinn, watching them. Although she's too far away to have heard most of the conversation, Quinn has gathered that Daria is in deep distress and has been venting to Jane. Her expression is one of sympathy and also a little forlorn, as though she wishes Daria had confided in her instead.) MAN: (off screen) Hey Prof, what's the matter?? (Cut to shot of Jake on second base, looking green around the gills.) JAKE: I think I ate too many chili dogs before my at-bat! (Cut to shot of Daria and Jane, who look at each other, stunned.) DARIA & JANE: "Prof"?! (Resume shot of Jake. Still a little shaky, he peers about him.) DeMARTINO: (off screen) It'll be *okay*, Jake ol' buddy! Just hold it IN 'til you cross home plate! (Jake looks off screen, and from his POV, we make out a familiar green blazer and combat boots in the near distance. Cut to close-up of Jake's face, getting a feeble, defeated expression.) JAKE: Ughhhhhhhhhhh... (He lurches forward.) (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 6 (later) (Shot of the park, the crowd now much thinned out, with only half a dozen or so people left. Zoom in on close-up of Jane and DeMartino at a snack table, eating the leftover chili. They keep glancing at each other awkwardly, then off screen. Meanwile, cut to shot of Daria and Quinn following Jake over to one of the trees for some privacy. They sit down. Jake is holding another chili dog.) QUINN: (state of shock) How did *you* learn to teach?? DARIA: (likewise) How did *they* entrust you with a classroom?? QUINN: I thought you had squeaky chalk phobia. DARIA: Doesn't the mere idea of giving presentations cause you to wake up screaming in a cold sweat? QUINN: "Professor"?? DARIA: Why didn't you tell us? JAKE: (holding up his hands, chili dog dripping) One at a time, girls! (chuckles nervously.) First of all, I *do* teach, but I'm not a professor. That's a nickname they gave me. Cool, huh? DARIA: It almost makes up for an evening of emotional turmoil. JAKE: (blushes) Yeah... (He chuckles feebly and starts to put an arm around Daria, but the look on her face discourages him. He tries to slip the hand holding the chili dog around Quinn's shoulder, but she gets an "Ewww! Gross!" expression.) I don't *know* why I never said anything, kiddo. I guess I got scared. QUINN: (frowns) Scared? Of *us*? JAKE: (remorseful) Yeah. Whenever your mother would ask you about school or one of your teachers, you would always make them sound so terrible. (mumbles.) Of course maybe I just heard wrong because I *did* sort of tune things out at times... DARIA: So you were afraid we wouldn't respect you if we found out? JAKE: Especially if you knew I was friends with your history teacher. I've done a lot in my day that I'm not proud of, and I didn't want to make things worse. I want to be someone you could look up to. (Daria and Quinn exchange guilty expressions, remembering their freak-out about Jake hanging out with the other teachers.) DARIA: What you're saying is completely ridiculous. QUINN: Yeah, you're our dad no matter what you do. (She snuggles up a little next to Jake.) JAKE: (grateful) Thanks, girls. (Unconsciously, he pulls Daria closer, too.) QUINN: But, um, you're not gonna, like, quit your job to be a teacher full-time, are you? JAKE: (same scornful tone as Quinn) Oh *God*, no! This is just one class at the University Extension Center. DARIA: (as Quinn exhales with relief) And they chose *you* to teach because...? JAKE: Tony -- um, I mean Mr. DeMartino -- teaches Masculinity in a Post Industrial World for extra money. One night he called me 'cause he was feeling a little stressed out (His expression reveals it was more than that.), and asked if I would fill in. I didn't want to, but heck, I couldn't let a good friend down. (Daria nods, conceding. Quinn hesitates a little before nodding, too.) JAKE: I was sure my students would laugh me away from the podium. (ominous.) Just like all those other times... But I remembered how much I enjoyed teaching Quinn, so that got me through it. (Quinn brightens a little when she hears this.) And it was amazing, but... DARIA: (faint smirk) They didn't laugh at you. JAKE: No. Well *yeah*... but I could tell they weren't being mean. They thought I was funny. (reflective.) I think they liked me. DARIA: Did they ever punctuate their laughter with tossed fruit? (Jake shakes his head.) Yep. They liked you. JAKE: And I liked them! Talking in front of a group didn't feel like torture with them. And I felt like I was really making a difference in their lives. QUINN: So what about when Mr. DeMartino came back? JAKE: By then I'd taught a couple of classes, and they asked me if I could teach another class. QUINN: (face pale) What kind of class?? JAKE: Something closer to my educational background: The History of Media Messages and Marketing. (Quinn breathes a sigh of relief.) DARIA: Are your students mostly guys? JAKE: Pretty much. (Daria nods: that explains the number of men at the gathering.) So now Tony teaches his class, and I teach my class, and sometimes both of our groups just go out and have fun -- bowling, go-carting, you name it. It's been great. People listen to what I say and care about what I think! I don't remember the last time I felt so welcome. (Cut to brief shot of Jane and DeMartino. Jane pretends to act really interested in a knot on a nearby tree, while DeMartino's eyes are on Jake, Daria, and Quinn off screen. He wears an expression that's hard to read.) DARIA: So is that it? JAKE: Yeah. I teach the class about four nights a week. (Bt) Did you think it was something more? DARIA: (blushing) Never mind what we thought. JAKE: I hope you girls can forgive me. (Quinn hesitates before nodding silently. She's still put-off by her father's teaching connection, but she meant what she said about caring that he was her father above all else. Daria, herself, feels a little irritated that Jake didn't mention anything sooner, which could have prevented a lot of grief. Still, she knows that his logic is not always full-proof, and decides to let it go. Her relief is indescribable; all of the worry and speculating about what Jake was up to is finally OVER. Things can finally start getting back to normal.) DARIA: Forgive you for teaching a class? Dad, you've found something new that you're good at, and you're giving back to the community without caring whether it gets you a tax write-off. You've succeeded at not being a hypocrite by living with the same values you've tried to instill in us. That's pretty damn good, if I do say so. (At this, Jake beams.) And someday I'd like to see what you're like in a classroom. QUINN: Yeah... me, too. (quiet.) But Daddy? Could you maybe make this your last class? I miss having you at home. JAKE: Ohhhh... (Overwhelmed with paternal love for his kids, he impulsively kisses Quinn, then tries to do the same to Daria, but she stops him with a look.) DARIA: (no-nonsense) Just don't make a habit out of keeping secrets from us, including Mom. I bet she's dying to know what you've been up to. (At this, Jake's face loses it's glow, and he smiles sadly.) JAKE: Oh... she already knows. (cut to: ) SCENE 7 (Amy's place) (Shot of the outside. Cut to close-up of Helen sitting on the edge of the guest bed, cell phone to her ear. We hear the phone ring a couple of times before the answering machine picks up. Helen punches a button to end the phone call, then dials another number. She lays it to her ear, and waits... only to hear: "You have no new messages." Sad and discouraged, Helen ends the call and turns off her cell phone. She closes her eyes, scarcely aware of the chirpy sounds of a clarinet playing off screen.) (Cut to shot of Amy sprawled across the sofa in the darkened living, numbly watching television. The clarinet sounds can be heard here as well.) COMMERCIAL: (off screen) What happens when an attractive young FBI agent is forced to move to her home town to hide out from the mob?? Adventure and heartwarming fun, that's what! All on "Abruptly Amy"! (Amy's expression sours at the thought of her name being a part of such a lame premise, and languidly holds up the remote to change the channel. Just then Joel enters from the hallway, playing the final notes of a clarinet solo.) JOEL: Your musical muse is home. AMY: (absently) Since when did I start dating Dave Matthews? JOEL: Since *I* broke up with you to date Julia Roberts, remember? AMY: (faint smile) And now you've come crawling back for forgiveness. (She plants a kiss on her beau before he settles into the chair beside her. Joel glances at the door leading to the hallway.) JOEL: (quieter) So Big Sister's road monster is still parked in the garage, eh? AMY: (weary) We didn't exactly settle things as I had hoped. JOEL: That probably means you never went to the clinic, did you? AMY: (annoyed) Actually I did. But then the aliens abducted me and wiped out all traces of memory. (Joel sighs, some irritation evident. Amy looks as though she wishes he would mind his own business.) JOEL: So what happened, then? Did you and Helen fight like you did at her house? AMY: No. (Her expression grows pensive, and Joel notes the fatigue in her eyes.) JOEL: *Something* must have happened. You're never like this except... (Beat) AMY: Except when I've been around Helen. (She nods, sits up a little.) We may not have fought, but it feels like we did. She drains me. JOEL: Rita, too? AMY: (shaking her head) Rita doesn't have that effect. Only Helen, for reasons I don't fully understand. (sits up straighter.) Oh wait: yes I do. It's because of her skill at drawing you close with one hand while slapping you with the other. She's spent years developing it. JOEL: Was this after you took all those old photos? (Amy looks at him blankly.) The ones in your album -- I remembered them at brunch. You looked so happy with her, I didn't recognize you at first. (His girlfriend blushes and glances to one side.) JOEL: (faint smirk) Would you ever smile for *me* like that? AMY: Since the mere remembrance of that smile embarrasses me to no end, I'd have to say "not likely." (Her face softens as she notes his expression.) Besides, that was then. *Now* Helen wants me to help solve problems she claims I created. JOEL: I told you to hide your voodoo dolls better. AMY: Whereas *I* think she just had a classic nervous breakdown caused by a classic midlife crisis that launched a classic wave of soul searching. (sits up straighter, lays her feet on the floor.) Our Helen's not used to looking inside herself, and she's so scared of what she might find, she'd rather foist blame on me. JOEL: Look, you've done as much as you can. You don't have to let her stay here, especially if she pisses you off *this* much. Doesn't her family miss her, or something? AMY: I'm sure they do. She's on the phone with them now. JOEL: Then what's holding you back? AMY: Some rather intriguing developments. (cocks a brow.) Such as the revelation that Helen kissed another man and hasn't said anything about it to Jake. (Joel looks intrigued. Then a small smirk plays across his lips.) JOEL: Hate to say it, but that doesn't shock me. AMY: (nodding wearily) Me, neither. Somewhere in all her pathetic anguish I knew something like this had to lurk. (sighs.) Naturally Helen wants to confess, but is afraid of what Jake will say, especially since so much time has passed. JOEL: So she just leaves out the part about it happening "a while back." (gets a look from Amy.) What? It's not rocket science. AMY: I *think* that defeats the purpose of honesty, Mr. Clinton. (musing.) Though maybe just telling him would be enough. It's more than I would do. (This time Joel gives her a look.) I'm kidding. JOEL: So you encourage Helen to be honest with her spouse, and she goes home to talk with him. The End. AMY: Leaving out the part where she might just *love* this other man. (Bt) You really want her to go, don't you? (Her direct gaze causes Joel to flush a little with embarrassment. He groans softly.) JOEL: Frankly, I thought after a round of sight-seeing and some alone time with you, she'd have hit the road. I've got nothing against her personally, but she throws our routine out of whack, you know? (grimaces.) She left wet towels on the bathroom floor this morning. *Soggy* wet ones. And she doesn't rinse out her coffee mug. There was a big yellow stain -- AMY: We should have her arrested. JOEL: (rolling his eyes) I know you think these concerns are stupid, but dammit, they add up after a while. AMY: No, what I think is stupid is that instead of being up front about them, you pretended to be oh-so-concerned about *my* well-being. (From the tone of her voice, it's clear this has been a sticking point in their relationship before. Joel reaches over and tries to put his around her, but Amy resists.) JOEL: (softly) Hey, come on. I *am* concerned. (Amy gazes at him for a moment, then allows him to come over and lay his arms around her waist.) AMY: I'm sorry things aren't working out the way you wanted. But just give it another day, please? (frowns.) In spite of her typical thoughtlessness towards me, I still feel like I should help her through this rough time. (She gets an expression that suggests there's more to her desire than sheer altruism.) (Dissolve to the earlier scene of her and Helen riding in the convertible, having just pulled out of the bar parking lot. Both look completely spent after their conversation, especially Helen.) HELEN: (flat tone) It was what you said about Dad that *really* got to me. (Amy focuses on the road, in no mood to receive more blame.) HELEN: Until you brought it up, I'd never really dwelt on his flaws. My beef was always with Mom; and since Jake's father was so revolting, for me to complain about my own would have been insensitive. (Amy applies pressure to the gas pedal. The car zooms through an intersection before the light turns red.) HELEN: But afterward, I thought about what a disciplined, upright man Dad was, and how hard he worked, and how he *still* couldn't control me and Rita when we fought. How he could never talk to his daughters in any meaningful way. (Realizing this isn't going to be an inquisition, Amy turns her head slightly to look at her sister.) HELEN: And if Dad, the model of American can-do spirit, could fail at having a relationship with his family, then I -- AMY: (sighing) Helen, you are *not* Dad. HELEN: -- needed to find a new role model. (Amy blinks with some surprise.) HELEN: So I found Greg. (lowers her eyes.) He had such a positive approach to life, and I was so dissatisfied with mine. I felt like I could tell him anything and it would be all right. AMY: (faint smirk) One of those sensitive men, eh? HELEN: (quiet) His advice means so much to me. If not for him, I wouldn't have dared take sculpting as far as I did. (Amy cocks a brow, mulls this over.) HELEN: (pained) Oh God, that sounds ridiculous. It almost sounds like I *want* to leave Jake! (She buries her head in her hands and starts quivering. Amy keeps both hands on the wheel, resisting the urge to put a hand on her shoulder.) AMY: All right, Helen, all right. Calm down. (She waits until Helen has composed herself before continuing.) I mean you're getting all worked up over a man who tosses clay for a living. (Helen looks a bit offended by Amy's characterization, but then her face relaxes, and she manages a slight smirk.) HELEN: You have a point. Maybe it is kind of silly. (She chuckles harder with growing relief. Amy cocks a brow.) HELEN: As if I would really give up my home and my family to squeeze into some studio apartment above a hardware store. (hastily.) *Not* that there's anything wrong with that. But for heaven's sake, I'm not twenty. AMY: (sotto) There's the closet hypocrite I know and love. HELEN: (wiping tears from her eyes) I have to be realistic. Thank you for reminding me of that. AMY: It's what I'm here for. HELEN: But still... have you ever had a spiritual awakening, Amy? AMY: Other than after I eat chocolate? (thinks seriously.) No. HELEN: Me neither, until I started sculpting. (sardonic.) To think you and I have been Episcopalians since birth, and I've dabbled in so many New Age religions, and it took rolling some silly *clay* to make me feel spiritual. AMY: Really? (Her tone is lightly mocking, but then her face grows serious.) How so? HELEN: It just made me feel calmer about everything. Like I wasn't doomed to ruin just because I couldn't solve everyone's problems. This may sound horribly trite, but I felt like I was a part of something greater than myself. AMY: That *does* sound trite. But not "horribly" trite. (Bt) No... not horribly trite at all. HELEN: And I just feel as though I owe so much to the man who helped me think that way. (sits up, gets a determined expression.) But never mind: it's selfish of me to even *think* I could walk out on my sweet Jakey and turn my girls' lives upside down because of some fleeting moment of satisfaction. *No*. Tomorrow morning I'm going home and I'm telling Jake what happened. (face puckers slightly.) But I'll also say that he doesn't have anything to worry about, because I'm not going anywhere. And I hope he says the same thing. (She takes a deep breath and waits for her sister's response.) (Dissolve to the present. Joel still has his arms around Amy and looks with wonder at her pensive expression.) AMY: (softly) I just need more time with her. (fade-out. fade-in to: ) SCENE 8 (Morgendorffer house, night) (Shot of the outside. The Lexus is parked in the driveway, and Jake is heading toward the front door. Cut to shot of the inside: Daria and Quinn are already trudging up the stairs.) DARIA: (softly) Dad's a teacher. What's next? Kevin gets a physics scholarship to an Ivy League university? Jodie blows off school to tour with Elvis impersonators? QUINN: I still don't get it. Why didn't any of his students, like, ever call our house? DARIA: (meaningful glance) Maybe they got tired of hearing the busy signal. QUINN: Hey, mathletic strategy requires a lot of planning! DARIA: (sighing) I get the feeling it'll take a while before this evening sinks in. QUINN: Yeah. I wish Mom were here. (Daria is silent as they reach the upstairs hallway.) QUINN: Aunt Amy should just drop her guy if he's causing her so much grief and let Mom come home. It's what *I* would do. Let's see if Mom called. (She follows Daria toward her room. Daria looks like she's debating something, then finally turns and looks over her shoulder.) DARIA: Quinn, I've got to level with you. Mom didn't go to Aunt Amy's to help her. She went there to *get* help. QUINN: (surprised) Why would she do that? DARIA: You know how strangely Mom's been acting. I guess she needed someone close who *wasn't* her immediate family to vent to. QUINN: How did you find this out? DARIA: I spoke to Amy this morning right before Dad came downstairs. (She continues to walk toward her room while Quinn pauses in her step, a peculiar expression crossing her face.) I didn't tell you because of your tendency to overreact from time to time, and things have been crazy enough with just Dad... (Daria walks up to her door, still talking, unaware that Quinn isn't following. Quinn remains behind, her expression changing to one of resentment. She finally tosses her hands and retreats inside her bedroom.) DARIA: ... I asked Amy to keep Mom out of trouble and (notices the silence.) Quinn? (She turns around and sees the empty hallway, assumes Quinn just went her own way. She shrugs and goes into her own room.) (Cut to shot of the inside. Daria sits down on her bed and picks up the phone. She hesitates, as if wondering which number to dial, and finally starts pressing buttons. After a couple of rings:) AMY: (VO) Hello? DARIA: Hi, Aunt Amy. Is Mom around? (Cut to shot of Amy sitting on the living room couch, phone to her ear. She's alone now, Joel having retired to their bedroom.) AMY: I think she's gone to bed. (stifles a yawn.) I'm about to do the same. DARIA: So did things... go okay? AMY: Things went fine. (Daria's not sure why, but she detects a flatness in her aunt's tone.) DARIA: (uncomfortable) Did you guys, um, talk or anything? AMY: Yes, we did. DARIA: And...? AMY: (gentle) Daria, she told me some very private things. It wouldn't be right for me to share them now, would it? DARIA: (blushing, annoyed) Of course not. But could you at least tell me if she'll be home tomorrow? AMY: All the signs point to no, I'm afraid. (more gentle, sensing her niece's disappointment.) Didn't she call you earlier? DARIA: Maybe, but I wasn't home. I was a little, um, busy with my dad. (There's a slight pause, as Amy mulls over what next to say.) DARIA: (deep sigh) So what's next in the game plan? AMY: I'm not sure. DARIA: Great. AMY: Daria, I promise I'll help your mother, even if I have to tie her to a tree and whack her with a bamboo rod. DARIA: If it tortures her enough to want to come home, I'm all for it. AMY: (annoyed) But you care more about her happiness, right? DARIA: (puzzled) Of course. AMY: What's more important? That she's happy, or that she comes home? DARIA: I... that she's happy. (Bt) What are you implying? That the two aren't compatible? AMY: I just wanted to make sure you were thinking past your own needs. DARIA: (annoyed) I definitely need a lecture right now. AMY: I'm sorry. But... (She frowns with the difficulty of what she was going to say.) Listen, sometimes things *don't* always work out the way we want them to. (Daria takes a moment to absorb this remark.) DARIA: What's that supposed to mean? AMY: I... (shakes her head.) Daria, do you trust me? DARIA: You've never given me reason not to. (cocks an eyelid.) Until now. AMY: Please Daria, if there's any time you should trust me, it's now. I want your mom to get better, too. DARIA: (as though there's a painful knot in her throat) All right. I trust you. AMY: Thanks. DARIA: But... AMY: Yeah? DARIA: Just... (can't get the last words out.) AMY: (inviting) What? What's on your mind? DARIA: Nothing. (Cut to wide shot of Daria sitting on the bed after the phone call has ended. She holds the receiver to her ear for several more seconds before finally letting it slide out of her hand.) TO BE CONTINUED......... ********************** [roll the credits.........................] As with "None in the Family," I'll save my COMMENTARY and THE MYSTERIES OF for the second half of this fic. **Points of Interest** *Location of Helen's office: One of the older versions of the MTV Daria website indicated the Helen's firm was in Lawndale. That could either be Lawndale City proper or Lawndale County (although the same website swore Lawndale was in *Carter* County). Either way, it's possible Lawndale is a large enough place that taking the freeway from one end to the other could be more convenient than taking the surface streets. *The Elvis songs on Helen's drive: Are You Lonesome Tonight? (1960) - words & music by Roy Turk and Lou Handman How's the World Treating You? (1956) - words & music by Atkins - Bryant Bridge Over Troubled Water -- words & music by Paul Simon Somehow, I could see Helen loving Elvis above all other 60's Rock and Rollers, including Lennon, Hendrix, and Mick Jagger. There's just something about those hips... *Location of Amy's abode: As you may have figured out, I kept it intentionally vague. Just as you've been playing "Where's Lawndale?", now you can play "Where's Amy's city?" *The expression of Amy and Joel's relationship: For the curious, yes of *course* they do more than hold hands and kiss! They've just reached the point in their relationship where they don't need to have hot steamy sex *all* the time. Besides, whatever amorous behavior they normally display would be modified out of courtesy to Helen. *Joel/Tom: I s'pose I can see the resemblance - sarcastic, supportive boyfriend with a faintly sketched out background. As I said, I've tried to give Joel quirks in this fic and previous ones, and intend to flesh him out more in the second half. Also, whereas Tom seems blandly open to everything, I tried to make Joel seem somewhat annoyed that Helen was walking into his and Amy's life unannounced. *The Title: "All But Forgotten" turned out a little differently than I thought, so I'm wondering what parts of the story people will identify with the title. Anyway, I hope you've loved this fic and made it your own, because Part Two, won't come out until December or January. I would have started it sooner if not for the fact that I'm working on spec scripts to be submitted to a comedy writing workshop. If they're approved, I'll get in the workshop, which is very exclusive. If not, I'll at least have some decent scripts to shop around. I was even thinking of waiting to release DWU #19 after I had finished #20, but that would have taken too long, and several people were already restless for new material in the DWU. By the time Part Two arrives, I'm sure you'll have memorized this one and made note of all the issues that need to be addressed. Hopefully it will come out before "Is It College Yet?" Why couldn't they come up with a better title for the final "Daria" movie?? Thanks for reading! This fanfic is the property of Kara Wild, copyright September 2001. All rights reserved.