This is [or should be] the seventeenth episode of The Driven Wild Universe and my nineteenth overall. It follows
Let me say that this fic was conceived, from start to finish, long before the Season Four finale, "Dye! Dye! My Darling," so any resemblance between the two is purely coincidental. However, I couldn't resist making a few pointed allusions to DDMD, as you'll see. ; >
Also, it's important that you know that this fanfic, as well as the next few DWUs -- if not the rest of the series -- occur as though "Fire!", "Dye! Dye! My Darling," and "Is It Fall Yet?" have not yet taken place. I will go into my reasons in detail in the postscript.
I would give this one a 3S...
Yes, gut-wrenching relationship episodes require a lot of space! Well actually, I think my fics are somehow expanding at an astronomical rate and I'm powerless to stop them. Eh <shrug> That said.......... Enjoy!!
Ten Spot Promo: A guy lies sprawled across the bed, his feet in the foreground, which a clock on screen counts to ten. That's it. Thrilling, eh?
[intro theme music...................]
SCENE 1 (Supermarket, weekday evening)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake standing in front of a freezer with his shopping cart in front of him. He's staring at two nearly identical packages and frowning. In the cart, we see several of the same packages piled up, along with an assortment of feminine products.)
JAKE: (to himself) Lasagna with fifty percent less fat, or lasagna with fifty percent less cheese? Hmmmm... it's so tough to decide. (Suddenly, from off screen, we hear a loud crashing sound.) Eap!
(He accidently swats both boxes into the cart. Just then, a can rolls up against his heel. When Jake takes a step to turn around, he trips over the can and falls against the freezer doors. He slides to the ground and grabs the can in a rage.)
JAKE: (shaking it) Goddamn lousy creamed corn!! Just for that, you're going over my peas tonight!! (tosses the can at the cart. The can misses and flies off screen, which causes Jake to get a depressed look on his face.) Lousy goddamn life...
VOICE: (loud and angry, from off screen) STUPID lousy can PYRAMIDS!! Why do they always have to be built like DEATH TRAPS?!!
(Cut to shot of Mr. DeMartino standing over a crumpled pile of cans, shaking a fist menacingly. In his shopping cart, we see a lone can of tuna fish and a box of corn meal.)
DeMARTINO: (gritting his teeth) "Three cans for a dollar" TEMPTING me to buy, knowing that I make minimum wage as a SLAVE to the lousy school system, all along KNOWING that I was gonna make them fall over an' look like an IDIOT!!
(An employee, whom we recognize as the ever-paranoid Artie from assorted "Daria" episodes, rushes over to the disaster scene.)
ARTIE: (squeaky voice) Hey Mister, you'd better, like, clean this mess up or else my manager, he'll, like, get really mad at you an' maybe take it out on me 'cause I have this weird tendency to get fired from stuff. So --
DeMARTINO: GrrrrRRRRRRRR! (His left eye bulges to greater proportions than usual.)
ARTIE: AGH! You're one of them! (cowers, stumbles away.) One of those horrific ALIENS! They've found me, oh God they've found me! (runs away off screen.)
DeMARTINO: (growling to himself) Great, so I've gone from being a disgruntled PATRON to a goddamn ALIEN! The PERFECT end to a perfect DAY!
(Just then Jake rolls his cart on screen.)
JAKE: Hey, you're my kids' teacher, right?? Mr. D... (struggles to think.)
DeMARTINO: (resisting his overtures) Oh that's all right, Mr. Morgendorffer -- my name's not important enough to remember. Never MIND that you and I have had our share of booze-clouded converSATIONS over at McGrundy's pub.
JAKE: Oh yeah! That's why I couldn't pin you down at first. (squints.) You look kind of different under a brighter light...
DeMARTINO: I would love to stay and discuss the minutiae of my APPEARANCE, but as you can see, I have shopping to do. So why don't you take your Always With WINGS to the cash register and --
JAKE: Hey! They're not mine, they're Qui-- um! I mean, you sure you don't need any help? If you don't mind my saying so, you seem kind of upset. (receives a "Well duh" glare from DeMartino.) Don't give yourself a heart attack, old buddy! (leans forward to pat DeMartino on the arm, but is discouraged by the look on his face.)
DeMARTINO: (nonetheless, slightly mollified) Thank you for your LESS than total unconcern for my welfare, Mr. Morgendorffer, but I'm fine.
JAKE: Um, okay. (waves, turns away to go.)
(Pause)
DeMARTINO: (in a low grumble) How would you like it if everything you'd worked so damned hard for was threatening to shatter into itty bitty pieces??
JAKE: Huh? (turns back around to face him.)
DeMARTINO: I've been a teacher at that crummy school for more years than I want to THINK about. The only reason I'm still there is because all of the other schools in the area are so much WORSE, and because I've squandered my LIFE for too long to find another job.
JAKE: Man, that stinks.
DeMARTINO: I'd kept my SANITY just long enough to get seniority, and something that almost resembled respect, when along came some snotty, pampered ex-PREP school teacher to take the spotlight away. The principal ADORES him, gives him every privilege beFITting a teacher, and sometimes more. And if I don't watch out, HE'LL soon be calling the shots at that school, an' I'LL be out on the street. You know what I mean?!
JAKE: YEAH!
DeMARTINO: (not anticipating such an enthusiastic response) You DO??
JAKE: That reminds me of what I'm going through right now. (His face reddens as he goes off on his own resentful rant.) Man, I've got some big shot trying to move in on my wife, Helen. (Bt) Okay, I don't have any proof, but all of the circumstantial evidence points to it! It's all I can think about lately, and I keep wondering what I should do. Maybe...
DeMARTINO: (muttering while Jake continues to speak) So it appears you see MY problems as just an opening to discuss YOUR problems. What a tremendous SHOCK. (He starts to leave, but his curiosity over Jake's situation, and his desperate need to talk about it, gets the better of him.)
JAKE: (missing his sarcasm) See, my wife and I had a big fight a while back. We separated for a couple of days, but when we made up, we vowed things would be different between us. And I'd like to think we were closer than ever...
[*] see "None in the Family"
(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake and Helen seated on opposite ends of the center couch, Helen going through papers and Jake snoozing, with the paper half-covering his face.)
JAKE: (VO from the present) Helen promised to be less controlling and more open to me having more responsibility in our house. So over the past several months, I've been helping my kid with math.
(Cut to shot of Jake sitting at the table with Quinn, holding a math book, while Quinn scribbles away furiously.)
DeMARTINO: (VO from the present) Grrr... math. Don't... mention... math to me...
JAKE: (VO) I've felt rewarded in a way that I didn't think was possible. I can't thank Helen enough for trusting me with this opportunity.
DeMARTINO: (VO, sarcastic) How very NOBLE of her. Maybe someday she'll trust you to pay the bills as well.
JAKE: (VO) No. (Bt) I still can't do that without her looking over my shoulder...
(We then see Helen walk across screen in the foreground, sorting through bills. As Jake watches her go, his face gets progressively irritated.)
JAKE: (VO) ... Or... most other projects. (Bt) But still, we were doing pretty well, so I thought. (more ominous.) Until last Saturday afternoon...
(Shot of Jake walking around the side of the house, towards the sliding glass door. He's holding a hose that's still running, having just finished doing some gardening. As he starts to open the door, we hear the muted sounds of Daria and Helen talking.)
DARIA: (off screen) ... So sculpting instructors make house calls.
(Jake's eyes widen with curiosity, and he crouches down so as not to be seen through the window, still clinging to the hose. Cut to shot of Daria sitting at the kitchen counter while Helen stands over the sink, washing clay residue off of her hands.)
DARIA: Remind me of that next time I get a demon urge to make a flamingo out of wax.
HELEN: (amused-exasperated) Oh Daria...
DARIA: But then again, I'm not sure my body could take being hugged twice by a guy who pumps one hundred pounds of pottery on a daily basis.
HELEN: Oh my... are you all right??
DARIA: I'm fine. The swelling should go down in a day or two.
HELEN: Greg's just a friendly man, I'm afraid. But don't worry: he was just here this one time, honest.
DARIA: (cocking an eyelid) The way you two were talking, it seemed like you have these playdates regularly.
HELEN: (sounding a bit uneasy) Well we don't. He was just teaching me to hold my hands properly on the pottery wheel.
DARIA: For four hours.
HELEN: Yes. (She emits what sounds like a strained chuckle.)
[*] Note: Greg made his appearance in "Breaking the Mold" and was alluded to in "Erin the Head."
(Cut to shot of Jake crouched down against the side of the house, ear turned toward the slightly-open door. He mouths the words "four hours??")
JAKE: (VO) At first when I heard that, I was as cool as a cucumber. (A "who cares" expression spreads over Jake's face.) So Helen's art teacher was over. Wasn't that nice? (Bt. Some doubt creeps in.) Although it was kind of strange that she hadn't mentioned he was coming. (Bt. Some more doubt.) Or that they were talking for so long. How the heck could Helen keep him interested in her damn lawyer stories for four whole hours? (A look of panic takes over Jake's face.) Unless maybe he was only acting interested when really he was thinking about something else. Something not real good, if you catch my drift! (Anger quickly replaces the panic.) Damn it! She's been taking his art class for weeks! How long had they been doing this so-called talking?? I should have told Helen from the start that she's no good at sculpting -- I could have stopped her from going!
DeMARTINO: (VO) Mr. Morgendorffer, please: get a grip.
JAKE: All right, all right. (Jake in the flashback takes a deep breath, relaxing his grip on the hose, allowing pent-up water to gush out.) Well even if it was all nothing, I wasn't gonna let it get any farther than that! (Jake gets a determined look on his face, straightens up, and takes a decisive step forward. Then he stops, and shudders, pan down to show that he's ankle-deep in a mud puddle created by the trickling hose.)
(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of the outside of the house, completely dark except for the upstairs bedrooms. Cut to shot of Jake sitting up in bed. He quickly unbuttons his pajama top and tosses it over the side.)
JAKE: (VO) So that night, I decided to turn on some of the old bedroom charm. She can't resist that stuff!
(Pan over to show Helen, also sitting up, deeply absorbed in papers. Jake leans over and starts nuzzling her neck.)
HELEN: (flinging down the papers she's holding) Jakey! (The color that fills her cheeks suggests that she's aroused.)
JAKE: (low, Elvis-like voice) Aw come onnnn. Papa Bear needs some lovin' tonight! And you look soooooo good. (kisses her neck.)
HELEN: (still blushing, half-insistent) Now Jake, I've got to catch up on the paperwork I didn't get to this aft... (Jake starts nibbling on her ear. Suddenly she shoves her papers aside and faces him, a girlish expression on her face.) Oh all right.
(They start kissing, then the light grows dim and the scene fades out. Fade-in to some time later -- much later -- that night. Jake is sitting up, his chest still bare, hair mussed, and arms tucked behind his head. Helen lies beside him, asleep. One of her bare arms is curled over his stomach and her head is nestled against his side. A slow, victorious grin spreads across Jake's face.)
JAKE: (VO) "Well done, Jake, m'man!" I thought to myself. "By tomorrow she'll be saying Greg who??"
DeMARTINO: (VO) Mr. MORgendorffer, do you really think it's wise to leak your SEXUAL details to your kids' TEACHER in a public place??
(Cut to shot of Jake and DeMartino in the present. Jake gets a horrified "Oh NO!" expression on his face. Cut to wider shot. We see several shoppers gathered nearby, paused in their activities, which suggests they've been listening.)
JAKE: (looking around) Oh God! You're not gonna tell anyone are you??
EVERYONE: (in unison, innocent) Of course not!
(They resume shopping, and Jake breathes a sigh of relief. Fade-out. Fade-in to a flashback shot of Jake walking casually down the stairs, into the living room.)
JAKE: (VO) After that night, I was positive everything was fine. Until yesterday...
(Helen's muffled laughter can be heard from off screen. Jake scowls and mouths the word "Er-ic" as he enters the kitchen. Pan over to show Helen sitting at the table, cell phone to her ear.)
HELEN: (blushing, chortling) Oh Greg, you have to promise not to tell anyone! I've never told that story to a living soul before. (more laughter.)
(Cut to shot of Jake, his eyes widening.)
JAKE: (VO) She was talking to Greg and laughing, like he was the greatest person in the world or something!
(Jake frowns and gets an angry, confused look on his face. Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake and DeMartino standing in line at the cash register. DeMartino has just paid for his measly three items, and is ready to leave.)
JAKE: (resentful) Oh sure, she acted like nothing was going on when she hung up the phone, but I knew something was up! But I didn't know what to do. If I confront her about it, I'll just end up making her mad and that could drive her away. (face falls.) I can't let that happen.
DeMARTINO: (taking his grocery back, turning to face Jake) I sympathize with you, Mr. Morgendorffer. In fact I thank you for making my life seem slightly LESS pathetic... at least for ten minutes or so. (Bt) I wish you luck.
JAKE: (weakly) Thanks. (waves a little to DeMartino as he leaves, then slumps down.)
(Fade-out. Fade-in to: )
SCENE 2 (Morgendorffer house, a little later)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of Jake struggling to balance multiple grocery bags as he makes his way through the living room. Quinn bounds downstairs and glances at them with disapproval.)
QUINN: God, Dad, I hope you didn't get jellied pork shoulder again. That stuff is so fattening for you.
[*] see "A Tree Grows in Lawndale"
JAKE: (struggling) Hmmm-mmmmm...
QUINN: (after standing there a few seconds, watching him) Oh, I guess I should help you, shouldn't I? (From off screen, a car horn honks.) Uh-oh, gotta run: practice!
(She leaves, and predictably, Jake spills the contents in his bags over the couch and onto the floor. Daria chooses that moment to walk downstairs.)
DARIA: (looking at the mess) Dad, I know you like to experiment with new ways of cooking, but I'd advise you to quit while you're ahead.
JAKE: (getting worried) Oh geez, I gotta clean up before your mom sees this!
DARIA: No need to rush: she won't be back from her art class for a couple of hours.
JAKE: Oh. (His face puckers.)
(Fade-out. Fade-in to shot of Jake lounging on the center couch, a dull, depressed look on his face. He's eating melted ice cream straight out of the carton, and picking at other food that was in the grocery bags. The groceries are scattered on the couch -- Jake hasn't put anything away. Just then, we hear the click of the front door off screen.)
HELEN: (off screen) Hellllllooo? I'm back! Did you -- (The cheer in her voice disappears as Helen appears on screen and surveys Jake's mess. Jake, who sat bolt upright the moment she came in, now tries to cover up the stuff, an embarrassed grin on her face.)
JAKE: Hi, honey!
HELEN: (hands on her hips, irritated tone) Jake, I asked you to do one simple chore around the house, and this is how it turns out?? I really don't know what's wrong with you, sometimes. Honestly, a man with two teenaged daughters ought to have the maturity to carry through with a --
JAKE: (jumping in, bitter) Ohhhh, so I guess it's "no more responsibility" for Jakey, then! "Big stupid Jakey's just gonna mess things up! I'll just do everything from now on because I can do it SO MUCH BETTER!!"
HELEN: (has heard this once too often) Jake, would you please stop putting words in my mouth?? All I'm saying is that I wish you'd think things through. For God's sake, if you'd just act your age --
JAKE: Oh yeah RIGHT, act my age! 'Cause Jake Morgendorffer NEVER acts his age! (whiny tone.) He just acts like a big, fussy baby, always whining, can't take care of himself! That's what you think, isn't it?!
HELEN: (eyes narrowing) Well if the bib fits... (Sees Jake get a stunned, hurt on his face, which immediately fills her with guilt. It shows in her expression.) I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. (sighs.) We shouldn't be fighting like this. Not after all we went through a while back.
JAKE: (nodding, forlorn) The only reason I didn't put everything away is 'cause I couldn't stop thinking of you. I didn't want to miss when you came home.
HELEN: (under her breath) Not even to put away the ground beef... (shakes her head, and adopts a maternal, upbeat tone.) Well I'm here now. (makes room to sit down beside Jake, and puts her hands over his.) And we can spend the rest of the evening together.
JAKE: (long-faced) Oh sure. You say that, but you'll just do paperwork and talk on the phone.
HELEN: (exasperation creeping in) I -- will not. I promise. (On cue, her cell phone springs to life. Helen glances at it for a couple of seconds, then shuts it off. She turns to Jake and lets out an embarrassed chuckle.)
JAKE: (resentful) Used to be bad enough when that was all you did, but between work and your damn art class, you don't have any time for me, anymore.
HELEN: Now Jake --
JAKE: I miss you, honey.
(Beat)
HELEN: (face softening) Ohhh... (fingers his hair soothingly.) Now Jakey, what do you want me to do? Give up my class?
JAKE: (face brightening) Yeah! Could you?!
HELEN: NO!
(They pull apart, each a little stunned by the intensity of her response. Jake gets a look on his face that says his fears have been validated -- part anxiety, part triumph. Helen's cheeks redden.)
JAKE: (deeply worried) Why not?? What do you get from that class that you can't get here?? (sneering.) Or should I say who?
HELEN: (already launching into her response, missing Jake's last few words) That class is a wonderful place for me to expand my artistic horizons in a controlled setting, make new contacts, achieve greater focus and acquire new skills --
JAKE: (voice edging on panic) But you could do all that stuff here! You could build your weird sculptures at the kitchen table -- we won't mind! They'd make great centerpieces. (He chuckles weakly when he thinks of how ugly Helen's sculptures are, then rushes on.) And your "contacts" can be me and the girls -- there's always crazy stuff going on with us. Like today I ran into the girls' history teacher...
HELEN: (guilty) Sweetie... you know I want to be with you and the girls as much as possible. (Bt, sighs, then becomes insistent.) But it just wouldn't be the same if I sculpted at home. We've got different lighting, none of the right supplies. It's fine for working on the projects after they've been started, but the atmosphere --
JAKE: (fidgeting) We'll buy you supplies! We'll get new lighting!
HELEN: (cheeks red, speaking each word with emphasis) Jake, I--don't-- want--to--quit--my--art--class.
(Pause. Jake's animation dies and he turns away from Helen, a sour, resentful look on his face. Helen looks contrite, but resolute.)
JAKE: Okay, fine. You love your damned class so much then FINE! You just go off and abandon me!
HELEN: Oh don't be ridiculous --
JAKE: Just GO ahead and abandon Jakey! Everyone ELSE has, so why not you?? (tremor in his voice.) I just never thought that my own wife would do something like that to me...
HELEN: Jake... (She's prepared to be patient with him until he regains him senses. But when she sees that his eyes have moistened, her face softens once more. She leans over and lays her arms around Jake, who at first resists, then huddles against her.) Honey, I would never abandon you. Never. (Then, thinking that Jake is just upset about being left home alone while she goes to class:) Look, why not come with me to my class next week and see what it's like?
JAKE: (lifts his head a little, puzzled) Come... to the class??
HELEN: There's an open house next week -- I was going to tell you. You'd get to meet some people. We'd get to spend time together.
JAKE: Aw, but honey, I get so tired in the evenings... (One glance at Helen's face, and he realizes that's the wrong thing to say. Suddenly his face lights up.) Wait: will your instructor be there??
HELEN: Of course Greg will be there. And I'm sure he'd love to meet you.
JAKE: And I'd love to meet him.
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 3 (Lawndale High, after school, a few days later)
(Shot of the outside. Cut to shot of a conference room with a long table, around which nearly all of the teachers have been gathered. Ms. Li presides at the head of the table in a chair more appropriate for a throne room. She taps a pen impatiently as she goes over the issues of the meeting.)
MS. LI: All riiiight. Enough discussion of cutting popular but meaningless programs, like music and counseling. It's time to move on to our next topic: instrrructor morale. (phony sincerity.) As principal of Llllllawndale High, I care about your well-being!
TEACHERS: (stunned) You do??
O'NEILL: (cupping his hands with delight) That's super, Ms. Li! It's important that as educators, we use our unity as a force of enlightenment for young people.
BARCH: (seated beside him, scoffing) If you really care about us, you'd petition for us all to get the piddling raises we were supposed to get last year. (Is met with a chorus of concurring voices.)
MS. LI: (irritated) Oh fiddle-faddle. The only reason I'm bringing this up is to prevent one of you from spinning out of controllll and indulging violent, murderous behavior that could make me look bad! (She looks pointedly at DeMartino at the opposite end of the table, as do the other teachers.)
DeMARTINO: (arms folded, sullen) Hmph.
MS. LI: Annnnthony, I understand you have grievances against our upstanding new addition to the staff.
BARCH: (under her breath) He's not the only one.
O'NEILL: (overhearing her, concerned) Janet...
(Just then the door opens and we see Mr. Phelps stride in, seeming in a hurry, but still as un-rattled as always. He glances around the room, his deadpan expression proclaiming that he doesn't really want to be here but knows he has no choice.)
PHELPS: I'm sorry about my tardiness. A student of mine came to me and --
MS. LI: (coddling) Neverrr mind, Alfred. As far as we're concerned, you're right on time.
(Cut to close-up of DeMartino, simmering.)
DeMARTINO: (low, grumbling voice) "Alfred"?! That stuffed PEACOCK has been here for less than a YEAR, and she's already started calling him "ALFRED"! It took me ten years and a recommendation by the SCHOOL BOARD for her to call me "Anthony"!
PHELPS: (having overheard, rolling his eyes) Still gnawing on that bone, are we?
MS. LI: Yesss, Anthony, your weighing and measuring of other teachers' privileges against your own has gotten verrrry tiresome. I hereby demand you stuff all that resentment down deep inside and never bother anyone else with it again.
BENNETT: (nervously helpful) But Ms. Li, is that really the way to boost Anthony's morale?
(Ms. Li groans, looking irritated that Bennett had to remind her. Phelps stands where he is and glances at his watch, looking bored.)
MS. LI: Well at least it would boost morale for the rest of us.
DeMARTINO: My morale will be BOOSTED when certain TEACHERS stop getting privileges that are entirely UNDESERVED!!
PHELPS: (turning to him, irritated) "Undeserved"?? For your information, sir, I teach seven periods a day, five days a week, twelve hours a day, forgoing the union-specified "prep" period so I have more time to spend with my students.
MS. LI: (jumping in) He came to us having won three statewide medals for excelllence and has continued to bring in the accolades ever since!
(Phelps glances at her, looking a miffed that she's heaping so much praise on him, as it's bound to not ingratiate him with DeMartino.)
BENNETT: (meek) He does work hard, Anthony. (Her remark is accompanied by several conceding nods.)
BARCH: (irritated) And the rest of us don't, huh?
DeMARTINO: (leaping up, seething) Well I work JUST as hard a you do, put in JUST as many backbreaking hours trying to drill knowledge into those little PARASITES with legs!
O'NEILL: (pacifying) Now Anthony, there's no need to resort to unpleasant names... (gets an icy glare from DeMartino.) Eap.
DeMARTINO: Why should HE get more privileges than I do?? I'll tell you WHY?! (glares at Li.) Because he is teaching the class that will lead to MONEY. (says it with a sneer.). HIS students will become ENGINEERS and computer PROGRAMMERS! While MY students'll become overpaid SECRETARIES, using their Liberal Arts degrees as DOORSTOPS. (rushes over to Phelps.) HE'S the teacher of the future, while I and others of my ilk are the DINOSAURS! (looks at the other teachers, eyes bulging.) Don't be surprised if the NEXT time there's talk of cutting "meaningless programs," the HUMANITIES are the next to go!
BARCH: (pacified) Well then I'm sitting pretty.
MS. LI: (laughing uneasily) Don't... be... ridiculous, Mr. DeMartino! I would... never do something like that.
PHELPS: (to DeMartino) With the teacher's union and tenure on your side, that's highly unlikely.
MS. LI: Y-yes, exactly! So in conclusion, until you start bringing the honorrrr and glory to Llllawndale High like your esteemed colleague here, kill the sour grapes attitude. Now on to our next order of business...
(DeMartino and Phelps eye each other -- "This isn't over.")
(fade-out. fade-in to: )
SCENE 4 (Lawndale Community Center, next week)
(Shot of the outside. It's a nondescript rectangular building, a couple of stories high. Cars are jammed into the front parking lot. Cut to close-up of the front entrance. A short flight of stairs leads up to double doors, which in turn lead to a hallway. We see several people standing around, chatting casually, and that Helen and Jake are weaving around them. Jake struggles with Helen's latest piece, which has been covered over with a cloth. As they enter the building, Jake gets so caught up in watching the people that he runs into a wall. Luckily this merely rattles the sculpture.)
JAKE: Gah! (Pulls away, starts rubbing his nose.)
HELEN: (irritated) Dammit Jake, watch out! I've worked very hard on that!
JAKE: (defensive) I'm sorry! It's not broken. (muttering.) Not that it'd look any worse if it was...
HELEN: What??
JAKE: Nothing!
JANE: (off screen) Hey Helen, you still hacking away at that giant asparagus of yours?
(She walks on screen, carrying a duffel bag over one shoulder. Smirking, she points at the sculpture, not seeing who is carrying it.)
JAKE: (poking his head out) Hey, it's Jane-o!
(Jane cringes with surprise, then shrugs resignedly.)
JANE: Well I guess I should've realized that the sculpture wasn't walking on its own -- (to Helen) though with your work, I wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.
(Helen chuckles. Jake gazes back and forth between them, surprised by their seeming ease together.)
JANE: So I've been spotted, I guess.
HELEN: Yep.
JAKE: Hey, I didn't know you took Helen's class, Jane! Or that you guys were on a first name basis.
JANE: (holding up her hands, looking embarrassed) Take the class?? Puh-leese, Mr. Morgendorffer, Jane Lane needs no mainstream, intermediate-level course to teach her how to sculpt. I just help out sometimes, since Greg and my mom are friends. (At the name "Greg," Jake's face darkens briefly. Meanwhile Jane smirks at Helen.) And since I can't resist the urge to flex my oversized ego in the presence of helpless novices.
HELEN: (rolling her eyes, knows Jane is teasing) And she's helped me out tremendously by giving a few pointers here and there.
JANE: And she's helped me out by not probing for info about your bespectacled eldest child. (Bt) Plus, she acts so damn enthusiastic about what she's doing that my cold artist's heart can't help but be a little thawed.
JAKE: And so that's when you started calling her "Helen"?
JANE: (looking more embarrassed) Er... it just slipped out one day. Before I knew it, I was spiraling downhill.
JAKE: Do you want to call me "Jake"?
JANE: (still more embarrassed) I have enough trouble accepting that I'm on a first named basis with one of my friends' parents; working my way up to both of you will take some time. (pats Jake on the arm.) You'll have to gain my trust first.
JAKE: How do I do that??
JANE: Cold hard cash, mister. (sees Jake start to reach for his wallet, puts a restraining hand on his arm.) Or just don't rat to Daria that you saw me here. (smirks again at Helen.) Your wife and I have promised to restrict our less antagonistic relations to art class only. (cocks a brow.) But otherwise --
HELEN: (smiling) Nothing's changed. I'm still Daria's meddlesome old mother. (Bt) Well not so old.
JANE: Yep. (Bt) Anyway I gotta go get ready for my date tonight. Could you let Greg know that I only came this time to drop off some art supplies? (waves "So long.")
HELEN: Of course. (waves back cheerfully as Jane leaves.) Have a good time!
JAKE: (waving while trying to balance the sculpture) Yeah, bye Jane-o! (When she's gone, he turns to Helen, an incredulous look on his face.) Wow, I'd've never thought you and the Janester would've hit it off. She's so loose and live-and-let live, and you're so --
HELEN: Restrained? (Her cocked brow suggests that she knew he was going to choose a less flattering word.) Well I was surprised as well. But sometimes when I talk to her, a part of me that I'd thought I'd forgotten comes out. (She then chuckles a little, as though she'd just found these last words to be absurd.)
JAKE: Really? Like what?
(Before Helen can respond, a tall, silver-haired man appears on screen and engulfs her in a friendly hug.)
MAN: (cheerful) Hey there, Helen darling! How're the old wrists doing?
(As he pulls away from her, we see that it's Greg. As Daria mentioned, he is muscular from hours of sculpting and lifting. Dressed in an old flannel shirt and jeans with specks of paint and clay embedded in them, he has an easy-going persona that is not hard to warm to. We see right away that Helen has a great rapport with him. Her smile widens and her eyes light up as they face each other. Jake notices this, and after setting aside Helen's sculpture, stiffens up in a boxer stance with his eyes narrowed.)
HELEN: Oh they're just fine, Greg. The soreness went away once I gave up on those sculpting marathons.
GREG: (smiling with understanding) Six hours straight is definitely a case of tendinitis waiting to happen. I'm glad you're feeling better. (raises a brow.) And if there's anything else you'd like to get off your chest...
(Helen responds to his question with a slight coloring of the cheeks and puckered lips which suggest she is both embarrassed and receptive. Just then Jake charges forward and sticks out his hand in front of Greg.)
JAKE: (curt) Nice to meet you, pal. I'm Jake Morgendorffer, Helen's husband. (He clenches his hand, as if preparing to squeeze hard.)
HELEN: (turning and laying her hand against the crook of Jake's other arm) Yes, Greg: he's joining me for the open house tonight.
GREG: You are? That's great, Jake. If you're even half as enthusiastic as your wife, you should take to art like a duck to water. (He leans forward and grips Jake's outstretched hand, giving it a firm shake.)
JAKE: (pulling back, wiggling his fingers to get feeling back in them) Um... yeah.
(Greg motions at them to follow him. Jake lingers behind to pick up the sculpture, looks at Greg with a glaring expression.)
[Shot of Jake tripping on the can and falling against the freezer, followed by shot of Helen and Daria talking in the kitchen, followed by shot of DeMartino standing beside Phelps and yelling, followed by shot of Greg gripping Jake's hand and giving it a firm shake.]
You are now entering commercial HELL. Please keep your seat belt securely fastened. You are about to see some of the lamest commercials put on television.
You are now leaving commercial HELL. Aren't you happy you survived?