INT. CAR—DAY
Papa is driving. Mom sits in the passenger seat. Claudia is filming from the back seat. It’s a clear morning, the sun glinting off the river as they drive over a bridge.
For a long moment, no one says a word. Finally, Claudia clears her throat.
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
So, Mom, what do you think? About Dad . . .
MOM
Are we taking a poll? Raise your hand if you believe he’s . . .
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
No. I just thought we could . . . never mind.
They lapse back into silence, but Claudia doesn’t turn the camera off. Papa glances up into the rearview mirror, and the camera catches a glimpse of his eyes as he looks at his granddaughter. Mom sighs.
MOM
I’m sorry, Claudia. I don’t mean to be snippy. I don’t know what I think. My thoughts are so jumbled. All those years—why did I just keep waiting and hoping things would get better?
PAPA
It’s good to be patient.
MOM
To a point. But then you just turn into an ostrich with your head in the sand. Where’s the line?
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
Were things that bad?
MOM
I don’t know. I mean, I was lonely, I knew something was wrong, but I just ignored it. I didn’t ask questions or change anything or . . .
PAPA
Ignoring problems is a perfectly legitimate way to maintain a marriage!
Mom tries to laugh.
PAPA (CONT’D)
This is not your fault, Jenny.
MOM
Whose is it, then?
Papa shrugs.
PAPA
No one’s. Jeff’s. Or maybe mine.
MOM
Yours? Why would it be your fault?
He changes lanes before answering.
PAPA
Do you remember that church Lily and I used to go to? The one you and Jeff didn’t want to get married in?
MOM
Yes.
PAPA
Ever since . . . I read the letter, I keep thinking about some of the things our old pastor used to say. Horrible things.
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
Like what?
PAPA
Like AIDS was God’s punishment for homosexuals.
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
Did your pastor really say that?
PAPA
Yes, he did. In the 1980s, people said worse. I didn’t agree, even at the time, but I didn’t say anything. I didn’t speak up. And so Jeff probably thought I agreed with him.
MOM
It’s not your fault either, Walter.
PAPA
Isn’t it?
He drives in silence.
PAPA (CONT’D)
I want to hate that pastor for all those horrible things he said. But when Lily was ill, he and his wife checked in on us. Every single week. They’d call. Or drop by groceries. Or send a card.
He shakes his head.
PAPA (CONT’D)
And now I feel bad about that. Like I was betraying my son by accepting their help.
Mom pats him gently on the shoulder. Claudia sighs.
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
When Dad first left, I blamed myself too. But now . . . I mean, I don’t think people choose to be gay.
MOM
I don’t think so either.
They drive for a minute.
CLAUDIA (O.S.)
So, do you think Dad is?
MOM
That is a question for your father.