Elliot left me a voice message yesterday. He said he wants to get together and talk. Mrs. Yule must have called him too. I secretly—maybe not so secretly—wish—but wish I didn’t wish—that Marsden was more like the overachieving kids at his school. Why is he doing this whole Deadhead in Dedham thing?
I get it. I do. I’d be doing it too if I were him. I just wish he had more consideration for me and my deadlines. What am I writing? I should have more consideration for him and his teenage apathy.
After Elliot’s call, I took a long walk with Maya at Cutler Park. We haven’t walked in Cutler Park since I moved to Dedham and walking there made me feel like I was back in my old life, my real life—my real fake life. I didn’t know where I wanted to go when my marriage ended, all I knew was that I wanted to leave Wellesley. I decided on Dedham because the wide streets and brick buildings felt unpretentious, and I liked that the town has a theater that’s been around since before the Depression. I wanted to be in a town that has survived depression, that felt permanent while everything else in my life felt uprooted and uncertain. Plus, it seemed meaningful that the town was originally named “Contentment”—isn’t that what we all want? And yet that got taken away and they got stuck with “Dedham”—so it goes.
On our walk, Maya told me I shouldn’t get together with Elliot. She said, “It takes you a minimum of two days to recover after you see him.” This is true. She said, “You are stressed out you need to focus.” This is true. She said, “If you want to actually finish your play, which I am beginning to doubt that you do, then you shouldn’t get together with Elliot.” She’s wrong here. I want to finish. It’s just that I don’t know how. And right now, I don’t know if I should start all over again or finish for the first time.
Sammy Ronstein emailed me yesterday: “Checking in, Elise. I feel like a kid on the days leading up to Christmas. I think about Deja New all the time. I hope our conversation was helpful. If I can be there for you in any way, let me know. Nancilla Aronie would like to have a character breakdown to her by tomorrow.”
I’m overwhelmed. I’m breathing funny. My inhales and exhales don’t seem to be the same length. My inhales are too long and exhales too short. My face looks round and bloated. I think I’m inflating myself with inhale. I need to write. But maybe the truth is that I’m not really a playwright at all. I’m just someone who managed to write a few plays.
I think I should get together with Elliot. He’s Marsden’s father and Marsden needs help. I’ll call him instead. We can talk on the phone. That’ll be better. Maya is right. I shouldn’t see him. She wants me to go out with her new client instead.
“Elise, I’m sure he told me that he’s recently divorced for a reason.”
“Probably because he wants to sleep with you,” I said.
“Only because he hasn’t met you yet,” she replied.
I told her about my crush on the man in my mother’s elevator and insisted that I’m a one-crush woman.
But Maya persisted. Maya’s client is promoting his animal rescue business. Raj’s Rescues. “Call him right away because he’s going to get snatched up quickly.”
I told her I am not interested in men who get snatched up, that I prefer men with a longer shelf life.
She didn’t laugh. I can usually make her laugh.
We took a few steps in silence before she started speaking again. I might be the playwright, but she knows how to structure the beats for an interesting conversation.
“You need to get over Elliot.”
“But I don’t want to lose my divorce virginity. I like it.”
I agreed to email Raj of Raj’s Rescues because that’s what I do.
Hi Raj, this is Maya’s friend Elise. I’m a playwright on deadline, but Maya insisted that I reach out. You know Maya, she’s always promoting something.
I didn’t send the email.
Maybe I’ll send it today.
I don’t think I will though.
DEJA NEW
CHARACTERS
LAURIE—40, personable, professionally successful, smart, attractive, and yet perpetually single. As to why? Could it be the psychological hold that her narcissistic divorced parents have over her, even though they split up thirty-two years ago when she was eight? Laurie admittedly is more comfortable dealing with the complexities of mathematical equations than navigating emotional and interpersonal problems.
GRANVILLE “GRANNY”—40, Laurie’s best friend from college. Also single, personable, professionally successful, smart, and attractive. Granny wants to honor the pact he made with Laurie in college that they would get married if they were both still single at forty.
GRACE—70s, Laurie’s complicated, passive-aggressive, aggressive-aggressive, needy, angry, boundary-crossing, beautiful, and loving mother.
LARRY—70s, Laurie’s charming, narcissistic father and the ex-husband to her mother, as well as numerous ex-stepmothers, and the current husband of Nicolette.
NICOLETTE—40s, Larry’s current wife. Looks like a younger version of Grace. She is a lost soul who has found an older man when she should have found herself.
(Additionally, all waitresses should be played by the same actress who plays Nicolette, aside from the waitress in the final scene who is actually Nicolette. The other waitresses should be wearing wigs that are hair-appropriate to the types of venues they are working in. For example, the waitress in the first scene could have short, spiky hair.)