Anesthesia Page #4

contradict the reality I inhabit.

Well, that's a relief.

I'm gonna retire.

What?

At the end of the year.

My spring-load is light, then I'm done.

And you're telling me this

on a chance walk to the deli?

- When else?

- Why?

I always said when I was done I'd know it.

I've been suspicious for some time.

- Suspicion is hardly...

- I'm certain.

What are you gonna do?

Wake up and not have any idea.

I've got a decade left, maybe 2.

I want possibility.

It's all you've ever done.

And my life has been incredibly fulfilling.

I've been decent, honest, loyal.

- I've worked hard.

- Yes.

I've also been perpetually

and resolutely safe.

It's a threshold, Marcia.

There for a moment, then gone.

I've spent my life delving

into what it all means.

I wanna see for myself

without the reassurance of young adoration.

And will it be alright

if I still adore you?

More essential than ever.

Let's get you chocolate.

I really think we should give it an hour.

- A half hour even.

- Not happening.

Just to put it in perspective.

Particularly with the

sort of week it's been.

Hal! Ella!

Get your asses down here.

If you're gonna interrogate us like this

which based on the stories

you and dad have told us

will be patently hypocritical...

I swear to you, Hal, if you don't cut

the lawyerly bullshit, I

am gonna smack you so hard

you're gonna come to in New Jersey.

Jill...

Answer the question.

Once a week? More?

Three times? Every day?

Again, I'm sorry, I reject

the inquisitional tone.

Hal, if you ever wanted to do me a favor

just play ball here.

What the hell is going on?

You've been getting

baked daily it would seem

in full view of our neighbors.

But why the rage and hysteria?

Why do you cry every

day for the last 3 weeks?

- Ella, please.

- Seriously, you guys must have...

Oh, my God, it's all crashing down.

Guys, answer the question.

Fine. At least daily.

Even more than that. Whenever possible.

- Where do you get it?

- Mm-mm.

You're telling us, Hal.

Not unless you want me changing schools.

A kid in your class?

Yeah, would you rather

I buy it on the streets?

Would that make you feel better?

It's pot, dad.

Ultimately less potent

than the 4 glasses of wine

you drink every night.

And I'm first in my class by miles

what the f*** difference does it make?

Don't disrespect your father.

Did you seriously just say disrespect?

What is going on here?

Anyone?

Go ahead.

A tumor has been discovered on

one of your mother's ovaries.

Oh, sh*t.

She is having a

procedure this Friday.

They'll have her in the

hospital for the night

and in bed for a lot of the weekend.

So I think you can understand

why the timing of this...

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