Well worn and threadbare. Not messy but cheap. Really cheap. Matching chairs and couch. TV in the corner, on and loud.
CAMMIE stands drinking a can of Coke and smoking. Thirty-eight, she chooses clothing that makes her look younger, if a little foolish. Wears her hair long. She yawns loudly.
SHARI is on the sofa, sorting a few bottles of formula and the like in a soiled diaper bag. She is twenty-one, very thin and sexy, although her face is plain and almost sad. A baby cries in one of the other rooms.
CAMMIE
—fucking pooped, huh?
SHARI
Yeah.
CAMMIE
And it’s only hump day. Believe that? Still got two more to go—
SHARI
Uh-huh.
CAMMIE
How’s the baby?
SHARI
’S kinda colicky.
CAMMIE
Yeah, poor thing. Keeping any milk down ’em?
SHARI
Little bit.
CAMMIE
He’s gonna be all right . . . Darrell went through the same thing. Worse, probably.
SHARI
Yeah?
CAMMIE
Shit . . . like he was gonna bust apart, screaming and crying just like that, day after day. Drove me crazy—
SHARI
I know.
CAMMIE
I mean, God . . . you don’t know what the hell to do! New mom, middle ’a the night. You just feel like knocking the shit outta them—
SHARI
Yep.
CAMMIE
—anything, just to shut ’em up.
SHARI
I know what ya mean. Sometimes I just crank the stereo and zone out, you know, kick back and say, “fuck it,” cry if ya wanna, I gotta take a break—
CAMMIE
Right.
SHARI
—and I don’t think that’s so wrong or whatever, I really don’t.
CAMMIE
Me neither. He don’t die from it, does he?
SHARI
Exactly. Little hungry or wet himself, hey, so hold on a second. You grow up, you wait for shit all the time—
CAMMIE
Every day.
SHARI
Every day ’a your life, true, so I don’t think you oughta just jump up whenever they start wailing like that . . . just teaches ’em bad manners, really.
CAMMIE
That’s what it is.
SHARI
Seriously . . . and false expectations ’a things. ’Cause life isn’t like that, with people all down on one knee for ya when you need ’em, just gotta cry out or say, “hey, I want this or that.” ’S totally not that way at all—
CAMMIE
I agree. (pointing at a bottle) You want me to throw one ’a them in the microwave for ya?
SHARI
Nah . . . he likes ’em cold, fine. I mean, room temp or whatnot.
CAMMIE
’Kay.
(CAMMIE looks up at the sound of a car door.)
Oh. Here comes Rich—
RICH enters the house, swinging a lunch pail. Thirty-three or so, plain-faced but muscular. He looks at SHARI sternly for a moment, then walks over and kisses CAMMIE on the cheek.
SHARI
Hey, Rich—
RICH
’S up?
CAMMIE
I, ahh, called Shari to gimme a lift home from work, hope that was okay.
RICH
Uh-huh.
SHARI
We didn’t mind . . . nice to get out.
RICH (to CAMMIE)
Could’ve taken the Impala today.
CAMMIE
No, see, that’s why I called her. Got a bunch ’a oil and stuff, dripping down.
RICH
What?
CAMMIE
Well, looks like oil . . . kinda reddish, but thick. ’S all over the driveway.
RICH
Fuck.
CAMMIE
You didn’t see it out there?
RICH
No . . . (BEAT) Shit, just got it back!
The baby cries out; RICH makes a motion toward SHARI.
SHARI
Sorry.
RICH
’S fine. I mean, if it doesn’t bother you—
SHARI
Right, yeah, I was just gonna—
RICH
’S a baby, they do shit like that. Cry.
SHARI
—I know, but—
RICH
You do? Huh. Well, that’s something, I guess . . . at least you know it.
A moment of silence between them all; the child whimpers.
CAMMIE
Anyway, that was nice of Shari, did me a favor—
RICH
Right. Yeah—
SHARI
No problem . . . we were planning on coming over tonight, anyway. Bought a new video for us, that one comedy one.
RICH
Oh.
CAMMIE (to RICH)
Just to watch the tape. Not dinner.
SHARI
No, I’m gonna grab something on the way, I mean, unless—
RICH
—great.
RICH pulls off his sweatshirt and moves to the sofa. He kicks back as he fires up a cig. Grabs up the remote. Phone rings and CAMMIE picks it up.
CAMMIE
H’lo. Yep. Uh-huh. Right. Oh well. Yeah. Whatever. No. Fuck no. Nevermind. Fine. ’Kay. Later. (to the others) ’S just Darrell—
RICH
Fuck’s he want, calling?
CAMMIE
Ride over to the mall.
RICH
Shit.
CAMMIE
I told ’em “no.”
RICH
Good. (to the remote) The hell is . . . ?
CAMMIE
Cable’s out.
RICH (tossing the remote)
Jesus Christ! Nice place—
CAMMIE
Hey—
RICH
You mail the bill or not?
CAMMIE
Yes, I mailed the fuckin’ bill.
RICH
Well, then what’s up?
CAMMIE
I dunno. You flip ’em on, you get snow.
RICH
Really?
SHARI
Yeah, anything above seven is fuzzy.
RICH
And you did the little wire thing in the back?
CAMMIE
Shit, Rich, do I look retarded to you?
RICH
Kinda—
CAMMIE (smiling)
Fuck you—
RICH
Forget it, you’re too old for me.
CAMMIE
Prick.
RICH blows her a kiss. She pretends to eat it.
SHARI
—mine went out last week, too.
RICH
Yeah, but you can’t afford cable.
CAMMIE
Rich!
RICH
What, I’m just saying—
SHARI
It’s okay—
RICH
I just mean you don’t pay for it, you had that neighbor guy ’a yours do that thing with the back ’a the box, that’s all I mean. It goes out you can’t really be weeping about it . . . this is different.
CAMMIE
Still don’t gotta say it like that.
RICH
What?!
SHARI
Not a big deal.
RICH
Exactly.
CAMMIE
Anyhow, we still got all the other channels—
RICH
What “others”?
CAMMIE
The regular ones.
RICH
“Regular?” Only “regular” thing on the whole fucking tube is Sports Channel—
CAMMIE
Listen to ’em. You got the ABC, CBS and NBC. Plus that PBS thing—
CAMMIE slides in next to him and takes a hit off his smoke.
RICH
Oh, cool, that’s fucking great . . . you think I’m gonna do, watch Nova? ’S not about cars—
CAMMIE
No. I’m just telling ya—
RICH
Whatever.
A moment of silence between them all. Only the baby crying.
SHARI
Ummm . . . could I get a drag, Rich?
RICH nods and SHARI slips down on the other side of him. He puts his hand up and she reaches her mouth forward, sucking deeply off his cigarette.
RICH
Well, ain’t this just cozy?
CAMMIE
Ummm-hmmm—
They all giggle. CAMMIE lays her head on RICH’s shoulder. RICH puts his free hand on her shoulder while keeping an eye on SHARI.
SHARI
Hey. I got that tape in the car, should I go and . . .
(They both look over at SHARI; she stops cold.)
. . . maybe I oughta take off.
RICH gets back up, leaving his sweatshirt where it fell. He heads for the door.
RICH
Worry about it . . . I’m gonna go pull the Chevy in the garage, take a look at it. You guys go back to your girlie shit or whatever—
CAMMIE
Oh yeah, that’s us.
SHARI
Right.
RICH (to SHARI)
—or you might wanna go hold your kid a second, get him to fuckin’ shut up. That might be something to do.
RICH smiles and exits. CAMMIE looks over at SHARI, but neither one of them make a move for the baby.
CAMMIE
So—
SHARI
Yeah.
CAMMIE
—don’t listen to that. He’s tired.
SHARI
Right.
CAMMIE
No big thing.
SHARI
’Kay.
CAMMIE
—what tape’d you get, anyway?
SHARI
You know. That one comedy one.
CAMMIE
Oh, right. Good. That’ll be good.
SHARI slowly lays her head down in CAMMIE’s lap. CAMMIE plays with her hair as SHARI closes her eyes. The baby continues to cry.