Cast – A mother and daughter. Ages are 75 and 40 respectively. As the daughter enters the living room of her mother’s modest house, she is dressed very plainly. Dress down past her knees. Hair up. Little to no make-up. The mother is offstage as the play begins. You only hear her voice.

DAUGHTER: Mother?

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: I’m here. You ready?

MOTHER: No.

DAUGHTER: We’ll be late.

MOTHER: Mass is 10. We have 45 minutes.

DAUGHTER: I don’t like to be late.

MOTHER: We’re not going to be late. We’re never late.

DAUGHTER: I don’t like to be late. It’s rude.

MOTHER: We always get there before they turn the lights on. Relax.

DAUGHTER: It’s God you’re going to see. It’s extra rude to be late going to see God.

MOTHER: It’s pretty rude of him to make us sit in his house in the dark too.

DAUGHTER: Don’t call God rude.

MOTHER: I’ll go to confession.

DAUGHTER: Please…..the line would back up to the street if you went in there. People would have to bring bag lunches.

MOTHER: You know what your problem is?

DAUGHTER: Can you run down the laundry list in the car?

MOTHER: You hold God in awe.

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: You heard me.

DAUGHTER: And you don’t?

MOTHER: I hold nobody in awe. I love God….we have a great relationship. But I can talk to him without prostrating myself at his feet.

DAUGHTER: I don’t prostrate.

MOTHER: You are on the Olympic prostrating team. 

DAUGHTER: Well I’m not gonna talk to him like he’s the guy at the filling station.

MOTHER: I should hope not. You treat guys at the filling station like shit.

DAUGHTER: Guys at the filling station are not God.

MOTHER: You know what they were saying back in Nazareth 2000 years ago? They were saying…."guys who are carpenters are not God"…and look how wrong they were.

(Mother enters the room. She is dressed up. Really dressed up. Makeup. Short skirt above the knees. Heels. She looks glamorous and extremely confident)

DAUGHTER: (shocked) What are you wearing?

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: What the hell are you wearing? Who are you and what have you done with my mother?

MOTHER: (primping) No autographs please.

DAUGHTER: What are you doing?

MOTHER: I told you me and God have a nice informal relationship, but I draw the line at visiting him naked.

DAUGHTER: Have you been drinking again?

MOTHER: I’m as sober as your father.

DAUGHTER: Daddy is dead 20 years.

MOTHER: And you can’t get much more sober than that.

DAUGHTER: (still incredulous) Where is the polyester? Where is the ratty sweater? Where are the plastic shoes?

MOTHER: I’ve donated them all to the Smithsonian.

DAUGHTER: Should I go out and come back in again?

MOTHER: You could….but I may look even better the 2^nd time around.

DAUGHTER: You’re dressed like that for church?

MOTHER: You’re afraid I’m making you look bad aren’t you? I’ll explain your somewhat unkempt appearance to God when we get there.

DAUGHTER: Where are your glasses?

MOTHER: My what?

DAUGHTER: Your glasses? You know….the things on your nose since you were 10?

MOTHER: Don’t need ‘em anymore.

DAUGHTER: You can see all of a sudden?

MOTHER: Contacts.

DAUGHTER: You got contacts? When?

MOTHER: Last week.

DAUGHTER: You got contacts?

MOTHER: You should try them. It’s a whole new world out there.

DAUGHTER: (confused….and suddenly sniffing)What’s that smell?

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: That smell. Smells like polish….furniture polish maybe. Have you been…..cleaning?

MOTHER: I don’t like your tone.

DAUGHTER: (puts her nose right on the end table and smells it) You have been! This table smells like lemon pledge!

MOTHER: You preferred the spilt beer smell did you?

DAUGHTER: Alright….what the hell is going on here?

MOTHER: Nice mouth on a lady going to church.

DAUGHTER: What time is it? 

MOTHER: Relax. God is still sleeping.

DAUGHTER: Mother….spill it!

MOTHER: A woman goes in for a little self improvement and her daughter questions her like a congressman. What a world we live in. I thought you’d be pleased.

DAUGHTER: Pleased about what exactly?

MOTHER: That I’m coming out of my funk.

DAUGHTER: You were never in a funk.

MOTHER: Since your father died.

DAUGHTER: I wouldn’t call it a funk exactly.

MOTHER: What would you call an all polyester wardrobe then?

DAUGHTER: I don’t know….maybe just being….

MOTHER: (pouncing) Being what?

DAUGHTER: I didn’t say anything!

MOTHER: Being old is what you were going to say!

DAUGHTER: It wasn’t.

MOTHER: I gave birth to you remember….I know how your warped mind works.

DAUGHTER: Your old wardrobe was fine for a…

MOTHER: For a what?

DAUGHTER: For you know…..um….a….

MOTHER: An old lady?

DAUGHTER: You keep saying that, I don’t.

MOTHER: You think I’m old?

DAUGHTER: That depends on your definition of "old".

MOTHER: Fair enough. I was 39 years old when I had you….does that help?

DAUGHTER: Yes it does. I think you’re old.

MOTHER: And old people shouldn’t dress up and clean their house is what you’re saying?

DAUGHTER: No…not all old people. Just….

MOTHER: Just me?

DAUGHTER: Yes. Just you. You wore polyester pants your whole life. Why this now? (a short pause. she notices the short skirt now. is scandalized) Is that your knee?

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: That skirt is above your knee.

MOTHER: You weren’t sure if I had knees were you?

DAUGHTER: I always assumed….and that was enough.

MOTHER: (flaunting her legs) Well, now you can look at ‘em and weep.

DAUGHTER: (dismissive) Please.

MOTHER: Jealousy is a terrible thing. Lets see your knees.

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: Lets see ‘em. Lets compare. (she reaches over to pull the long skirt up…but her daughter beats her off)

DAUGHTER: We’re going to church.

MOTHER: I’ll let you turn back into a nun before we go see God…but lets check ‘em out.

DAUGHTER: (indignant now) Turn into a nun? What’s that supposed to mean?

MOTHER: When is the last time you……you know…

DAUGHTER: I what?

MOTHER: You know…

DAUGHTER: No I don’t know.

MOTHER: When was the last time you’ve been with a man?

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: Let me refresh your memory. You are a woman. A man is what you call the somewhat hairier thing that is supposed to pay the bills and lay on top of you and…

DAUGHTER: Mother!

MOTHER: So the concept is not totally foreign?

DAUGHTER: I’ve been with men!

MOTHER: When was the last time?

DAUGHTER: I don’t have to tell you.

MOTHER: That long ago huh?

DAUGHTER: (trying to get the spotlight off herself) When was the last time you’ve been with a man?

MOTHER: Last night.

DAUGHTER: (stunned) What!?

MOTHER: (looking at her watch) About 10 hours ago to be more precise.

DAUGHTER: What? Where!?

MOTHER: We thought the bed was a good choice. If you have other suggestions I’m all ears.

DAUGHTER: We?

MOTHER: The "we" would include myself and a man….yes.

DAUGHTER: In this house?!

MOTHER: (thinking) Well last night…yes.

DAUGHTER: What do you mean?

MOTHER: Some nights we’re at his house.

DAUGHTER: His house!? Where?

MOTHER: I guess we’re kinda dull ‘cause we do it in the bed there too.

DAUGHTER: No no….that’s not what I mean (getting freaked out…she starts fanning herself)…..my God…..is it hot in here?

MOTHER: It was last night.

DAUGHTER: Mom!!! Oh my God….we’re both going to hell.

MOTHER: Relax. You’ll never go to hell. You’ve never slept with anybody and that’s a prerequisite.

DAUGHTER: (jumps at this) I have.

MOTHER: When?

DAUGHTER: You honestly expect me to tell you when I last slept with a man?

MOTHER: Or a woman.

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: Are you a lesbian?

DAUGHTER: Am I a what?

MOTHER: I’m a modern woman and growing more modern by the day. I love you no matter what.

DAUGHTER: Oh my God…..I feel like I have to go take a shower now. 

MOTHER: We’ve got time….go ahead.

DAUGHTER: How can we go to church after this conversation?

MOTHER: You don’t think God knows that I slept with a man 10 hours ago? We closed the blinds but I think he can still see in.

DAUGHTER: I need a drink. (she gets up and pours herself a shot)

MOTHER: And even if you don’t want to tell me if you’re a lesbian God surely knows.

DAUGHTER: I am not a lesbian!

MOTHER: It’s ok if you are. I’m fine with it.

DAUGHTER: I’m not!

MOTHER: Why don’t you find somebody nice and get married.

DAUGHTER: Why don’t you!?

MOTHER: I already did. There’s no replacing your father.

DAUGHTER: (very bitterly…spits it out) Well you’re giving it the old college try.

MOTHER: (unaffected) He may be dead….but I’m not.

DAUGHTER: But what about honoring his memory?

MOTHER: What about it?

DAUGHTER: Well don’t you?

MOTHER: How do you want me to honor his memory?

DAUGHTER: Well….for starters….by not having sex with other men in his bed.

MOTHER: Your father is dead dear. Has been for years now. We were married for 20 years. We shared everything. He was my best friend. He was my confidant. He was my lover. He was the father of our lovely lesbian daughter.

DAUGHTER: (explodes) I am not a lesbian!

MOTHER: (laughing) It is so easy to push your buttons. Your father was my everything. I miss him everyday. I talk to him everyday.

DAUGHTER: (bitter) You talk to him everyday do you?

MOTHER: Yes I do.

DAUGHTER: And what does he say?

MOTHER: He doesn’t say anything. He just listens.

DAUGHTER: (contemplative) He never said much.

MOTHER: He always listened. 

DAUGHTER: How do you know he’s alright with this then?

MOTHER: Alright with what?

DAUGHTER: (squeamish) Don’t make me say it again.

MOTHER: What? Me having sex?

DAUGHTER: Jeez….just the words creep me out.

MOTHER: Do you think your father would want me to be alone?

DAUGHTER: Why can’t you just play bingo like all the other…

MOTHER: (interrupts) All the other what? 

DAUGHTER: You know….

MOTHER: All the other old people?

DAUGHTER: That’s not what I said.

MOTHER: Need I remind you young lady….that I challenged you to compare knees, and you refused.

DAUGHTER: I did not refuse.

MOTHER: Alright, lets see ‘em.

DAUGHTER: I’m not entering a knee contest against my mother.

MOTHER: (preening again) That’s because you know I’d kick your ass. I got some good looking knees here.

DAUGHTER: (shocked) Where’d you learn to talk like that?

MOTHER: Like what?

DAUGHTER: You’d kick my ass? You never used language like that before.

MOTHER: "Ass" is in the bible so it’s ok.

DAUGHTER: Is having sex outside of marriage in the bible too?

MOTHER: Mary Magdelene did it.

DAUGHTER: She was a hooker.

MOTHER: And she didn’t turn out so bad did she.

DAUGHTER: (pause….can’t think of anything to say….finally blurts out) You can’t receive communion you know.

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: You’ve got a mortal sin on your soul. You have to go to confession.

MOTHER: I could do that…..but since we plan on spending the night together tonight my cleanliness would not last long now would it.

DAUGHTER: You’re completely unrepentent about this aren’t you?

MOTHER: First you’ll have to tell me what unrepentent means.

DAUGHTER: May I ask what I consider to be a pertinent question at this point?

MOTHER: That depends. What does pertinent mean?

DAUGHTER: Mom….who is he?

MOTHER: Who is who?

DAUGHTER: The man you are sleeping with.

MOTHER: Oh. I was wondering when you were going to ask that.

DAUGHTER: How could you have a boyfriend and I not know it?

MOTHER: How could you be a lesbian and I not know it.

DAUGHTER: (screams) I am not a lesbian!

MOTHER: Well I don’t have a boyfriend.

DAUGHTER: Well what is he then?

MOTHER: (saliciously) He’s hardly a boy.

DAUGHTER: Who is he.

MOTHER: His name is Chad.

DAUGHTER: Chad? Oh God. How old is he….14?

MOTHER: Actually, he’s 57.

DAUGHTER: (stunned) What?!

MOTHER: Fifty + seven. Like the Ketchup. Worth the wait too…

DAUGHTER: You’re 70….(stammering to get the rest out)

MOTHER: (cuts in)…something…..yes I know. You’re impressed I can tell.

DAUGHTER: You’re dating a younger man.

MOTHER: I prefer "I’m sleeping with a younger man". It sounds sexier.

DAUGHTER: (puts her head in her hands) My God.

MOTHER: You’ll never show me your knees now.

DAUGHTER: Well who is he? How’d you meet him?

MOTHER: You know him.

DAUGHTER: I do?

MOTHER: Yes. He works at the filling station around the corner.

DAUGHTER: (derisive) You’re sleeping with a guy who pumps gas?

MOTHER: (even more salicious) Pumping gas is not his only talent I can assure you.

DAUGHTER: How do I know him?

MOTHER: If you get your gas from there you know him.

DAUGHTER: The guy with the barbed wire tattoo on his arm?

MOTHER: That’s the one.

DAUGHTER: My God….he’s closer to my age!

MOTHER: I know. Isn’t it great?

DAUGHTER: No….it’s not great. It’s disgusting.

MOTHER: If he was sleeping with you would it be disgusting then?

DAUGHTER: No.

MOTHER: Why not….beside the fact that you wouldn’t sleep with him because you’re a lesbian.

DAUGHTER: I am not a lesbian!

MOTHER: Do you think he’s attractive?

DAUGHTER: Alright….you’re freaking me out now.

MOTHER: You know he is. I’ve seen you looking him over.

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: He’s an attractive man.

DAUGHTER: So?

MOTHER: I’m an attractive lady.

DAUGHTER: You’re my mother!

MOTHER: He’s a widower. I’m a widow. We got to talking….and….

DAUGHTER: And what?

MOTHER: It just happened.

DAUGHTER: You just crawled into bed with him?

MOTHER: Actually, "dove" is probably a better word.

DAUGHTER: (bitter) How long have you been…er…..dating?

MOTHER: A few weeks. Maybe a month. Time flies when you’re having fun.

DAUGHTER: Were you planning on telling me?

MOTHER: As soon as I considered you mature enough to handle it.

DAUGHTER: What?

MOTHER: I knew you’d fly off the handle.

DAUGHTER: (flying off the handle) I’m not flying off the handle!

MOTHER: No….what would you call it then?

DAUGHTER: My widowed mother is banging a gas station attendant 20 years her junior! I think I’m behaving much more rationally than you are!

MOTHER: Do you want to meet him?

DAUGHTER: No.

MOTHER: He’s coming over.

DAUGHTER: Where? Here?

MOTHER: Yes. He’s coming to mass with us.

DAUGHTER: What?!

MOTHER: You don’t mind do you?

DAUGHTER: What?! Yes I mind. You two are liable to start necking at the sign of peace and the church walls may do a Jericho on me.

MOTHER: Oh no….we’re very discreet.

DAUGHTER: Is he a catholic?

MOTHER: What difference does that make?

DAUGHTER: Mom….you’re in enough trouble already. Now is he a catholic or not?

MOTHER: Yes, he is.

DAUGHTER: Thank God. And you said his wife is dead?

MOTHER: Yes. She died last year.

DAUGHTER: He doesn’t waste any time does he?

MOTHER: He loved her very much.

DAUGHTER: I’m sure. Is her body still warm?

MOTHER: (salicious again) I can’t speak for her but mine sure is. 

DAUGHTER: You’re acting like a….a……

MOTHER: A kid?

DAUGHTER: Yea….like a kid.

MOTHER: I’m acting like you should be acting. Full of life. How did the roles get reversed here anyway? What’s the matter with you? Ever since your father died…

DAUGHTER: (curtly) Don’t.

MOTHER: You can’t stop me. Ever since he died you’ve been acting like the world is Saudi Arabia or something…..like you have to walk around with your head covered all the time. Let me tell you something. You keep sleepwalking with your head down and not only will you miss the good stuff…..but you’ll start bumping into things you would normally avoid.

DAUGHTER: (on her high horse now) You’re telling me how to behave? Mrs. gas station attendant….

MOTHER: (forcefully) He’s not coming back. You’ve waited your whole life for someone with his soul to sweep you away…..and it never happened. A soul is like DNA. You can’t duplicate it. Any man who entered your life was doomed at the start. You’d stick ‘em in some sort of maze and not tell them how to get out.

DAUGHTER: (really uncomfortable) Oh God do we have to do this?

MOTHER: He’s not coming back. You can wait….and wait…and wait….but he’s not coming back. You’ve got to give the next best thing a shot.

DAUGHTER: And what if the next best thing is just not good enough?

MOTHER: How would you know? You can wear out the kneelers at church…..you can lift your voice and praise God….you can give him whatever money you have left at the end of the month….you can stand in line at that confessional….but when it comes time to make a move….to go from point A to point B……he is not going to carry you. He may whisper in your ear….he may even give you a good tail wind…..but you have to get off your ass and move yourself. You’ve been glued to one spot too long. When we get to the point where we can’t think of change without thinking…."if I move….it has to be bad"….well then we’ve already shriveled up and died inside.

DAUGHTER: (with a slight smile. she understands) You writing my obituary?

MOTHER: No time for that. Too busy.

DAUGHTER: You know what Daddy used to say to me? He used to say that I was a miniature version of you. Said I had your eyes…..your nose. Your mouth. Said everyday I was on the earth I became more and more like you…..and that eventually, when I’d be all grown up….that would make me the most beautiful woman in the world. As a kid hearing stuff like that was like being in disneyland. He talked about you like you were a fairy princess. And the older I got the more I belived the princess part but stopped believing the rest….the parts about me being like you. I’d see the way he looked at you….the way he’d put his arm around your waist….or touch your hand. My friends…..their parents never did things like that. I’d see that…..and I thought…..to get somebody like Daddy meant that I had to be like you. And every night I’d stand on my tip toes before going to bed…and still I never felt I measured up. So you asked how things got reversed? There’s your answer. Right there. There it is.

MOTHER: That’s not what I was expecting.

DAUGHTER: The day has been full of surprises hasn’t it?

MOTHER: I’m going to live out the rest of my life the way I would if your father was still here. I’m going to enjoy the soft touch of another. And I’m going to drive you crazy enough so that you do the same.

DAUGHTER: And Chad?

MOTHER: What about him?

DAUGHTER: Is that really his real name? Chad?

MOTHER: Yes.

DAUGHTER: It’s kind of a gay name to tell you the truth.

MOTHER: Takes one to know one. We’ll see. I don’t know. One day at a time. It’s fun now. It may not be fun tomorrow. It may lead to something more serious….it may not. But it beats staying at point A….that’s for sure.

DAUGHTER: Is he better than…..you know…

MOTHER: Better than your father?

DAUGHTER: Yea…

MOTHER: Nobody was better than your father. Even when he was sick he could still find the strength to curl my toes.

DAUGHTER: Can we talk about me for a minute now?

MOTHER: Sure. I’m up for anything.

DAUGHTER: I’ve met somebody too.

MOTHER: Really? What’s her name?

DAUGHTER: Ma!!!

MOTHER: Sorry. You’re so touchy.

DAUGHTER: Not as touchy as you apparently because I haven’t hopped into the sack with him yet.

MOTHER: You’ll need to go to the library before that won’t you?

DAUGHTER: Do you really think I’m a virgin don’t you?

MOTHER: Yes…..and I’m proud of you. Don’t settle. What’s his name?

DAUGHTER: Marty.

MOTHER: Marty?

DAUGHTER: Yes….Marty.

MOTHER: You got a lot of nerve calling Chad a gay name.

DAUGHTER: Marty is not a gay name.

MOTHER: It’s kind of a gay name. Guys who wear pocket protectors are named Marty aren’t they? Guys who work for NASA are named Marty….

DAUGHTER: (getting a bit miffed) OK! Well I can see this is going to be an interesting meeting.

MOTHER: How do you think a guy with a barbed wire tattoo is going to get along with a guy named Marty?

DAUGHTER: I was actually more concerned about you.

MOTHER: Do you love him?

DAUGHTER: (blurts out very quickly) How the hell should I know. I’m a virgin.

MOTHER: Plan on remaining one forever?

DAUGHTER: No……

MOTHER: Thinking of breaking your fast with him?

DAUGHTER: Maybe.

MOTHER: Well….that’s close enough in this business.

DAUGHTER: I don’t know. I just feel good when I’m with him that’s all. He makes me feel special. (long pause) Oh God…(maybe doesn’t want to get into this)

MOTHER: And?

DAUGHTER: And what?

MOTHER: You want some….um….advice don’t you.

DAUGHTER: (trying to be dismissive) Please.

MOTHER: No questions?

DAUGHTER: You’re my mother!

MOTHER: I’m an experienced, sensual woman.

DAUGHTER: No you’re not, you’re my mother.

MOTHER: You can’t go to communion either you know.

DAUGHTER: What do you mean?

MOTHER: You are considering sex…..and pre-marital sex at that.

DAUGHTER: I didn’t do anything yet.

MOTHER: You are "lusting in your heart"….as Jimmy Carter once said.

DAUGHTER: I’m not lusting!

MOTHER: Maybe we should skip church and go see a peep show.

DAUGHTER: Mom!

MOTHER: I’m kidding. Now c’mon. Don’t be shy. Ask me anything.

DAUGHTER: (blurted out so fast her mother is stunned for a moment) Should I make the first move?

MOTHER: Do you really think a guy named "Marty" is going to make the first move?

DAUGHTER: Mom….c’mon. I’m serious.

MOTHER: Ok ok. The trick is…..to trick him into making the first move by doing something that is not technically making the first move but close.

DAUGHTER: (baffled) What?

MOTHER: This is just the first lesson so I expect you to be confused.

DAUGHTER: Did you make the first move with Daddy.

MOTHER: No….he did.

DAUGHTER: How did he do it?

MOTHER: He said……"I want to have sex with you….wanna?"

DAUGHTER: He just came right out and asked you?

MOTHER: Your father was a very uncomplicated man.

DAUGHTER: And you said yes?

MOTHER: Of course not. I didn’t want him to think I was easy.

DAUGHTER: (reluctant again) Maybe this was a bad idea.

MOTHER: Listen, I knew we were going to have sex…..but saying no was just part of the game. He knew it too.

DAUGHTER: He knew what?

MOTHER: That my saying no really meant yes.

DAUGHTER: (throws up her hands in despair) There are advantages to being a virgin.

MOTHER: I was catholic and we weren’t married. I couldn’t come right out and say I wanted to sleep with him.

DAUGHTER: But you did want to sleep with him!

MOTHER: Of course. He was a hottie.

DAUGHTER: So when did it finally happen?

MOTHER: The next night.

DAUGHTER: The very next night?

MOTHER: Yes.

DAUGHTER: He made the first move?

MOTHER: No, I did.

DAUGHTER: You said the trick was to trick him into making the first move.

MOTHER: I did that already.

DAUGHTER: How?

MOTHER: By getting him to come right out and ask if we could sleep together.

DAUGHTER: Well how did you get him to do that?

MOTHER: Well….that’s hard to explain in words really. It’s all very subtle.

DAUGHTER: If you can be subtle I surely can.

MOTHER: Ok…come over here and sit next to me. I’ll show you. (she reluctantly comes over and sits next to her mother on the couch) Now….put your hand on my leg.

DAUGHTER: I’m going to hell.

MOTHER: You’re not going to hell. (she puts her hand on her mother’s leg) Now…..notice my reaction (she pulls her leg into her body….not quickly, almost imperceptively)

DAUGHTER: What? You didn’t do anything.

MOTHER: I just told you sex was out of the question.

DAUGHTER: (totally freaked out now) Oh God. Maybe I should become a lesbian.

MOTHER: Pay attention. Lets try it again. Put your hand on my leg (she does). Ok…here we go (she slowly slides her leg over until it touches her daughter’s leg). Catch that? You just got the green light.

DAUGHTER: So when a man puts his hand on your leg it’s like a litmus test?

MOTHER: Men are strange dear.

DAUGHTER: What if he doesn’t put his hand on my leg?

MOTHER: Well then you got problems.

DAUGHTER: How do I get him to do it?

MOTHER: You could put your hand on his leg.

DAUGHTER: But isn’t that making the first move?

MOTHER: Yes.

DAUGHTER: But we’re trying to avoid that right?

MOTHER: Dear….you are a 40 year old virgin. You’re running out of wiggle room.

DAUGHTER: (in despair) I’m going to hell.

(MOTHER stands and embraces her DAUGHTER)

MOTHER: (tender) You are too much like your father to go there.

DAUGHTER: (touched) Really?

MOTHER: You’re always searching for……goodness. You may not always find it…but you never stop looking for it. You say you wanted to be like me? I wouldn’t mind it the other way around.

DAUGHTER: I really think I love him.

MOTHER: I know you do. You’ll know when the time is right. You don’t need me for that.

DAUGHTER: I invited him to come to church with us.

MOTHER: Who?

DAUGHTER: Marty.

MOTHER: Well…..where are they? We’re gonna be late.

(there’s a knock at the door)

DAUGHTER: It’s Marty.

MOTHER: Could be Chad.

(long pause……they don’t move to the door yet, as something is hanging in the air)

DAUGHTER: Do you ever wish it would be…..(stops…won’t go that far)

MOTHER: (cuts her off) All we can do is hope it’s always going to be the next best thing.

DAUGHTER: (lets this sink in…and then…) What do you say?

MOTHER: What?

DAUGHTER: To him. You said you talk to him. I wonder if we say the same things.

MOTHER: You talk to him too?

DAUGHTER: Yea.

MOTHER: You want to compare notes?

DAUGHTER: Better than comparing knees.

(they laugh and head to the door)

End of Play