tiny balcony, one of dozens, ten stories up. And there, the source
of the sound --
-- becoming a fight. JANE, 30s, dark-haired, furious, wheels
across a diminutive, neat, but poor living room.
will, Nell! A month! Even if
Mother left you something, you
won't get it in time to pay the
rent. So instead of complaining,
Mother's things packed.
even notice her. Then we do...
Holding herself, in a dim corner away from the light, small, plain,
hands, studying it.
settle with your mother's landlord
on the back rent.
I'm not going to stay. I'll get a
job. I'll get my own apartment.
Richie stops. A long beat. He looks at her, insolent, then plows
on with his tank.
Nell. A job? Two months and
where is this job? You have no
-- I've never worked? --
You have no experience in the
world... the regular world. What
would you put on a resume?
Now we all appreciate what you did
for Mother. Isn't that right,
Eleven years. Long time.
That's why we've been talking.
With me getting more time in
Accessories, and Lou at the shop
all day, we need somebody to take
care of Richie, do a little
cleaning and cooking. And in
return you can have the extra
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