Characters:
Dan Galliano, middle aged free-lance photographer, balding in front slightly, small beer belly.
Meg Landry, lawyer, late forties, always wears business suits, slightly over-weight, divorced. She is Dan's landlady by default.
Sally, secretary to Meg, mid-fifties, dresses like a Southern Baptist.
Bambi, a model--young and gorgeous, vivacious, with the immature voice of a girl.
Policeman.
Meg is Dan's reluctant landlady. She's a brand new lawyer and has just purchased the house to start her practice and has decided to convert the garage into an apartment for extra income. Her practice is new and not stable and Dan's rent check is handy. They have met only once.
Act One
Scene I
Stage right. Occupying almost half the stage is a small ground floor apartment converted from a double garage. The front wall goes up and down to either reveal or hide the interior. From the outside we see the front door--screen door and regular door. Two windows covered by blinds are to the door's left. Inside, (wall up) a wooden table stands prominently in the center the tiny living room, close to the far wall. Two chairs accompany it. To it's left is a short hall leading to the kitchen. Left of the hall is an extension of the living room, now used as a photo studio. (The exact layout is not important as long as the relationship between photo area, table and bedroom remain clear.) There are lights, cameras on tripods and backdrop paper. In the hall, not too far from the table is a door leading to the bedroom. The bedroom is behind the photo area. The wall to the bedroom goes up and down. The table is visible from the bed, through the bedroom door.
Stage center. A sidewalk separating the apartment from the house, leading upstage to a parking lot which is out of sight. If we could see it, it would run the width of the stage.
Stage left. The rear of what was once a residential home, now a law office. It is made of clapboard, painted white (ditto Dan's apartment). There are short stairs leading up to a back door. This is the rear entrance to the law office of Meg Landry. It has a screen door, also, with ornate wrought iron decoration on it. The steps have a wrought iron railing. A sign over the door, on a wrought iron hanger, says "Law Office. Enter in front." An arrow points to the front.
Its late summer, early afternoon. Salsa music, muffled, is heard from the garage apartment. Periodically, the glare of strobe lights brightens the two windows. Sporadic laughter and male / female voices, muted by the closed door and windows, is audible. This goes on for about fifteen seconds before Meg enters from upstage parking lot carrying a brief case in one hand, and legal sized file folders in the other. She is slightly disheveled. Sounds from the apartment stop her half way to her office steps. She regards Dan's apartment with evident distaste then shrugs in exasperation, before entering her office. Walls of office go up revealing secretary, Sally, busy typing, computer keyboard clacking.
Meg: Quiet, Sally. Listen.
Sounds from apartment audible.
Sally: It's been that way almost two hours, Ms Landry. No let up. I think he has someone in there with him. A girl. Shameless, if you ask me. Lord knows what they're up to. He could be running a porno shop on these very premises. If you ask me.
Meg smirks and walks on to her office, just off stage. We see only the office door and a mirror. Sally continues typing. All of a sudden the sound gets louder. Meg and Sally rush to door--it has glass panes covered by wide blinds--and peer out in time to see Bambi leaving the apartment in short dress, bare foot, carrying sandals and a large, colorful handbag with pantyhose half hanging out, hair mussed. She is dancing to the music's beat. Dan follows doing a pathetic imitation of Bambi's dance steps. Bambi throws Dan a kiss and heads upstage, the direction Meg entered. Dan, waving a coca-cola:
Dan: Thanks, Bambi, think we did well. I'll punch them through the computer next couple of days.
Gives her thumbs up. Re-enters apartment. Salsa sounds abate.
Meg: (Incredulous) You heard what he called her....Bambi! Do you think she's eighteen yet? She looks like a child.
Sally: Children aren't built that way, Ms Landry. She's hanging out of that dress like a you-know-what. If you ask me, it's time you did something before the police do something.
Meg: He seemed like such a nice man when I first met him. So clean cut and intelligent...
Sally: ...and good looking...
Meg: ...and ok looking. I'm not letting him stay in the apartment just on looks alone, Sally. I'm not a high school girl bowled over by wavy hair and tight jeans...and a gut. He looked...well, honest and...clean cut, and...well, you know what I mean. Just goes to show, I guess. And when he said he'd look after momma's table like it was his momma's...well...
Sally: The devil's a gentleman, if you ask me, Ms Landry, and looks like a movie star. His promises are sneezes and worth as much. Don't you be swayed, now, by his oily ways and all. There's something improper about a middle aged man taking pictures of a young lady with no clothes on--even if she's not a lady.
Meg: Yes, Sally, I know. (Thinking) I admit, though, in a way I find him rather charming. And we don't know for sure what he's doing over there. Perhaps it's time we found out.
Sally: (Growing more indignant) I'm not a lawyer like you, Miss Landry, but pornography is against the laws of God and man. He's working for Hustler (Meg laughs) or other smutty trash, if you ask me. Dirt! Just dirt!
Goes back to her typing. Phone rings.
Meg: (Smiling at Sally) Hustler? What's that? I don't think I know it.
Sally: (To Sally, with hand on phone) I know what's going on in this world, Miss Landry, I read the papers. (Answers phone gruffly) Meg Landry, law office. (Pause. Hands phone to Meg pointing towards Dan's apartment) It's him.
Meg: This is Meg Landry.
Wall goes up on apartment. Dan is on a portable phone talking while putting away cameras, backdrops, etc.
Dan: Meg! Hi! This is Dan next door. How are you?
Meg: I'm fine, Mr. Galliano. What can I do for you?
Dan: How's the law business? Heard any good cases lately?
Meg: Mr. Galliano, I'm a lawyer not a judge. Lawyers try cases, judges hear them. Did you call about something? I'm very busy.
Dan: Well, Meg, got a little problem. The a/c thinks it's a heater. A friend of mine was here earlier and she was sweating so much she slipped off the furniture. Me too, Meg.
Meg: Oh? Slipped how, Mister Galliano? What were you doing?
Dan: Nothing! Working. Now I know I have some hot lights, but...
Meg: Mr. Galliano, may I talk seriously to you for a moment?
Dan: Well sure, Meg, anytime. Come on over, we'll pop a beer.
Meg: It's only three o'clock, Mr. Galliano, do you always start drinking this early? (Quickly) Never mind, never mind. That's none of my business. Couldn't you come here with your problem?
Dan: No, ma'am, the ac's too heavy. Plus it's built into the wall. Maybe there's some trick to make it work.
Meg: OK, I'll be right over.
Hangs up, glances at Sally, then enters her office where she is out of Sally's field of vision, straightens her skirt, tucks in her blouse in back, freshens her lipstick and pats her hair into place.
Sally: You're going over there?
Meg: Yes, Sally, I won't be long. Besides, it'll give me a chance to check on momma's table. I really wish there was a place for it here, but we're so cramped...
Sally: Then take this. (Reaches into her purse and pulls out a small spray can of mace in a holster. Unsnaps the holster, removes the can and shakes it vigorously) A lady can't be too careful, if you ask me.
Meg: (Laughs) Oh, Sally, that won't be... (Reconsiders a second, then takes it.)
As Meg leaves her office, the wall there comes down. Apartment wall stays up. Meg gets half way there when she realizes she is holding the mace ahead of her, steadied in both hands, like a gun, gives a tiny embarrassed laugh and pockets it. She knocks on Dan's screen door--the main door is open.
Dan: (Volubly) Come in, come in! And the answer is 'no,' I don't usually start drinking at this hour. I just became flustered when you said you'd be over, that's all. Wasn't it lawyers who invented the three martini lunch? Fact is, I was about to make some coffee...or would you prefer tea? Earl Grey ok? Got camomile, if you prefer, that's Bambi's favorite. She just left and it's still hot. Want some?
Meg: Who's Bambi?
Dan: A friend of mine...she just left a second ago.
Meg: Her name is Bambi? I don't believe it. Bambi is a deer!
Dan: She is, she really is. You know her? Great gal! Great skin. Very cooperative model.
Meg: (Speechless) Mr. Galliano...
Dan: Call me Dan. You didn't say, coffee or tea? (Talking rapidly, rambling) I drink too much coffee, but love it. No good for the heart, they say, plus I'm too fond of these goddamn cigarettes, 'scuse the French, ma'am. (short pause) You make me nervous, Meg. Beautiful women always make me nervous. I talk a lot when I'm nervous. My mother said I could talk the wall paper off the wall...
Meg: I'll remember that, Mr Galliano, when I want to renovate my office. May I must speak seriously with you for one minute.
Dan: You know, Meg, I bet we're related. There are some Landry's on my mother's side. We're probably kissing cousins. You're from the pretty side of the family. (Dan pulls out a chair) I'll get the tea and we can talk about crazy relatives.
Meg: Mr. Galliano! Stop! Please, don't change the subject. Half the state may be related to each other for all I know and all I care, but that is not why I came over. (Putting on a lawyer face) I knew, naturally, when I rented this apartment that you are a photographer and that your rent money would help, but, legally, you must understand your lease was not cast in stone and...well...(starting a new tact) but now I'd like to understand exactly what kind of pictures you take. And no, I don't know Bambi...I'm sure she's a very fine girl, uh...woman, but she just left here wearing hardly any clothes at all and, well, uh, Sally and I are concerned that, uh, your pictures may not be suitable...(directly) I mean, she can't be more than eighteen---is she eighteen, Mr. Galliano? What kind of photographs do you and Bambi make here?
Pause. Dan looks at Meg impassively, but understanding her meaning,
Dan: Carved in stone, you don't cast stone you carve it. And I admit, this apartment is just right for me at the moment, I'd hate to lose it. I'll fix tea. Camomile, it's really best. (Enters kitchen. Talks from there) What kind of pictures do you think we make, Meg? Milk and honey?
Meg: (Uncertain) Well, I...I don't know...that's why we--Sally and I--we were wondering...(determined) Sally thinks you're making pornography, taking pictures of naked women...of Bambi, anyhow. (Short pause) Is that what you do, Mr Galliano? Strictly speaking, that would not violate your lease, it might, however, land you in jail.
Longer pause. From kitchen:
Dan: Milk, honey?
Meg: Are you listening, Mr Galliano? And I don't want any tea.
Dan: (Returning with a tray. Handing her a cup) It's best black, with maybe a small squirt of honey.
Meg: I don't want any tea, Mr Galliano. Please answer my question.
During the following monolog, Dan holds both cups of tea and never takes his eyes off Meg. They are standing in profile to the audience, separated by the table.
Dan: Yes, your honor. I do not take pornographic pictures of any kind. Maybe, that's why I live in a tiny garage apartment without a functioning air conditioner. Porn sells well--so I'm told. Now and then I do take pictures of naked women. I call it art. So do other people. You and Sally can call it what you please. I shoot only beautiful women like Bambi--she twenty three, by the way--because the beauty of a woman makes me high; because the female figure has intrigued man--mankind--since Adam first saw Eve and Eve first looked into a quiet pond. Because the natural eroticism that's awakened in everyone by the sight of a nude woman is one of God's good gifts: like a flower or inspiration or fettuccine Alberto. You, for example. Meg, just look at you. You're as lovely as any one I've seen, prettier than a flower--and I haven't seen half of you. Yet. Your face, Meg, could inspire epics to be written, masterpieces painted, ballets choreographed, your face alone could make a photographer's reputation, and maybe inspire a really wonderful pasta dish.
Dan puts the cups down on the table and moves closer to Meg, who is speechless and clearly flustered beneath her anger.
Dan: (Teasing) Would you to pose for me, Meg, and help make my fortune?
Unconsciously, he rests on the edge of momma's table.
Meg: Mister Galliano! I resent...I...
Notices momma's table. On table, shoved to one corner, are two glasses with ice melting and a residue of coke, an overflowing ashtray and some cosmetics left behind by Bambi, plus a small puddle of not-yet-dry coke. Meg, shocked, furious:
Meg: What are you doing to mother's table? There's large puddle of...of...bourbon or scotch staining my mother's favorite piece of furniture! You promised to take care of that table, Mr Galliano, and I'd appreciate it if you stuck to the contract you signed when you leased this apartment! (Softer, pleading) I hate having to leave it here. This piece of furniture is very dear to me. My grandfather made it when he was a young man. It's been in use almost constantly since then. (Sterner) I also want to remind you your lease mandates that between eight a.m. and five p.m. on workdays you--and your guests--agree not to park in the company lot. Please relay that information to the young woman who just left. I have a very small lot. I must reserve space for clients and employees. Thank you for your cooperation.
Leaves abruptly. Dan yells after her:
Dan: Employee! That's singular. You have only one employee! What about the air conditioner?
Meg turns and with controlled anger calmly says
Meg: Someone will be out as soon a possible to fix it. I'll make sure of
that, Mr. Galliano. In the meantime, I hope you and your 'inspirations' will be more discreet while you are making your...your...'art.' I do not relish having half naked women roaming my premises. May I also remind you of a rider at the bottom of your lease--which you agreed to in consideration of a small reduction in rent--stipulating that you will take adequate care of and caution with my mother's table until such time I am able to find place for it elsewhere. (Firmly) I fully expect you to live up to both the letter and the spirit of that document. Good day, Mr Galliano! (After a second thought) And that music must cease, Mr Galliano. It is far too loud and not conducive to a business environment.
Turns and enters office.
Dan: (Feebly) Call me Dan. Please.
Scene II
Same. A few weeks later. It's evening, getting dark. Meg is working late, a light burns in her window (blinds down). From Dan's apartment (wall down) loud country music is blaring. His blinds are down as well and the flash of strobe lights periodically brighten them. Now and then Bambi's voice is heard above the racket and shadows flit across the blinds. Wall goes up on Meg's office.
Meg: I can't concentrate with that goddammed noise!
Covers her mouth and looks toward Sally's (empty) desk at the word 'goddammed.' She goes to the door and looks out. In Dan's apartment strobe's flash, a woman's laugh is followed by Dan's. Meg holds her ears. She bolts out the door and down the steps to Dan's apartment, then stops short. She quickly makes an about face to her office where she grabs the telephone. The wall to Dan's apartment goes up revealing Dan peering through a camera eyepiece at Bambi who is out of sight behind a backdrop. We hear her voice but don't see her. She is singing along with the song playing on the stereo, country-western, Emmylou Harris, maybe.
Dan: Hello? (To Bambi) Turn that down a minute, will you? (Noise ceases) Sorry about that. Who's this?
Meg: Can you be a little more quiet over there, I'm trying to work? We have talked before about your music, Mr Galliano, remember?
Dan: Meg? Hey, Meg, come on over. (Covers the receiver with his hand and talks to Bambi) Put your clothes on, we got company. (To Meg) We're celebrating--I got a commission from Esquire! Esquire Magazine! That's big time, baby, at last! They only want one picture, but still...it's Esquire! Come over, drink a toast with us.
Meg: Mr. Galliano, I'm trying to work! I must be in court early tomorrow morning and I'm not prepared. Please just keep the noise...
Dan: Call me Dan. One drink, Meg, one glass of champagne, it'll clear your head.
Meg: No! Just keep the noise down, please!
Dan: I'll bring you a glass. 'Bye. (Hangs up.)
Meg: No, don't bother...
Meg scurries over to the office door, locks it and leans her back against it
Bambi: (Slowly getting dressed) Danny, the only good thing you told me about your landlady is that she's got more money than you, but, shit, so do I, almost. What you want with her? She ain't your type and she ain't showed no interest in you anyways.
Dan: Not yet, maybe...
Bambi: You got a plan, Danny-boy? (Dan holds up the champagne) What, dummy, you gonna git her drunk? Then what? Y'all gonna cry together? I can help you, darlin', if you want me to. I got a hun'red times more experience with men than that gal. (Conspiratorial) We can take her un-awares. Want some expert help? Jus' leave it to me.
Dan: Bambi butt out. Go home. Relieve your babysitter. I know what I'm doing. Good night, great party, kiddo, now I got work to do.
Dan comes out with a champagne bottle and two glasses. The noise in his apartment gets louder and a shadow is seen slowly dancing past the blinds. Dan, only slightly drunk, runs to the steps and knocks on the office door. No answer, he knocks again.
Meg: (From within the office) Please, Mr. Galliano, I have work to do.
Dan: Meg, isn't it time we were on a first name basis? If you have one glass of champagne with me, I'll leave you alone. I promise. Ok? I'll put it in writing, you can notarize it.
Meg: Mr...
Dan: Please, Meg. This is a big day for me. One glass. That's all.
Meg: (Defeated) All right...Dan. One glass. (To herself) I guess I could use a break.
Meg comes out and they both sit on the office steps sipping champagne. For a short while neither speaks. A large full moon is visible among many stars.
Dan: What a moon! So many stars. A gorgeous night.
Meg: Yes, I had no idea. I spend too much time indoors. I never get out. This business takes so much time, Dan.
Dan: You work too hard. What did you do before all this?
Meg: I was a housewife. Had a nice home, lots of free time--and a husband. I started law school after the divorce.
Dan: You like practicing law?
Meg: (Considers the question) Not really, but I think I'm good at it. You like photographing naked women?
Dan: (Laughs) Yeah, and I think I'm good at it. I don't do porn, Meg. Naked ladies yes, now and then--pornography, no. I shoot a lot of different things. I'll show you my portfolio one day...if you're interested.
Meg: Yes, I would like to see your work. We're crowded in here, but the walls are mostly bare. Have you anything suitable for an office?
Dan: Certainly...even Sally would like some of it.
They sip champagne in silence, looking at the night sky
Dan: This is unbelievable light. You can't duplicate moon light in a studio, not really. It's easier to imitate the sun. Wish I could photograph you now. Your hair shines like it wouldn't in the sun.
Meg: It's just dirt. I need a bath.
Meg leans forward and massages the back of her neck.
Dan: Here, let me do that.
He moves to sit behind her and massages her neck
Meg: Hmmm.
Dan: Your neck muscles are all knotted up.
Meg: Hmmm, feels good.
Suddenly, the music get loud. Bambi walks seductively out Dan's apartment toward the couple on the steps. As she nears Dan she reaches out playfully and musses his hair, leans over and plants a kiss on his lips. Meg looks angry, Dan surprised.
Bambi: (Sing-song) Good night, Danny-boy. Great party. You must be Peg. (Emphasize the 'P') I'm Bambi. Dan's a great guy, ain't he. Gotta go, now. 'Night yall, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Pleased to meet you, Peg. (Exits with a strut)
Meg: (Under her breath) Call me Meg!
They both laugh.
Meg: Goodnight, Dan. I must get back to work. Thanks for the champagne...and the massage. Congratulations.
Dan: Meg?
Meg: Yes?
Dan: Do you think...? (Pause)
Meg: I have to go, Dan. Goodnight
Dan: Goodnight.
Exit both
Scene III
Sunday afternoon. Sound of car approaching. Door slams. Dan appears upstage swinging a six-pack. There are some flowers in a large pot to his left. He stops, looks at them, smells them and pinches off five or six looking furtively towards the office. Turning to face his apartment, he sees the screen door pulled back and the front door smashed in. He stops, lowers beer to ground and stares:
Dan: What ...? SHIT! (Rushes inside)
Comes out and runs over to the law office, bangs on the door. No response.
Dan: My cameras! God damn! God DAMN!
Scene IV
Later that same day. Dan is talking to a policeman, who is about to leave. A car drives up, door slams. Meg arrives, sees them talking stage center.
Meg: (To Dan while pointing at cop) He here to arrest you? You won't need cuffs, officer, he'll go quietly.
Dan: Meg I've been burglarized. All my cameras were stolen, the door busted in. VCR's gone too, but my CAMERAS!
Meg: (Horrified) Oh, no! I'm so sorry. (She looks over to her office door, is relieved to see it is still intact.) Are you insured?
They both walk over to Dan's apartment. The policeman peels a piece of paper off his pad,
Policeman If you find anything else is missing give us a call at the number on bottom of the page and mention the case number on the top.
Policeman nods goodbye and leaves.
Dan: Yeah, I got insurance--the deductible is enormous.
Wall goes up on Dan's apartment showing general disarray and Meg's table overturned
Meg: Oh, momma's table!
Bends down to pick up table. Dan too stunned to help. One table leg is loose. Meg looks at table top and sees candle wax still stuck to it. Several candles are on the floor
Meg: Oh-h-h. My momma's table!
She forgets Dan for the moment, stands regarding the table. Dan is slumped in a chair, quiet, absorbed in his predicament.
Meg: I'm sorry about your cameras, Dan, I really am...(long pause, then, to herself) but look at momma's table (last two words are sobbed. Now in a normal voice) What are you doing to...momma's table? You're ruining it with candle wax! I can't believe it, after last time. (Louder, forgetting Dan's problem) It doesn't even belong to you and you're destroying the finish! (Indignant) Dan, this table is nearly a hundred years old!
Dan is silent. Little by little he becomes aware of Meg's words. With an inscrutable expression, he rises, goes to a cabinet and removes a bottle of whisky, takes two glasses from the kitchen and places them on the table with a bang. He carelessly pours each glass full, splashing booze upon the table.
Dan: Have a drink, Meg ol' girl, a toast to new cameras and momma's ancient fucking table.
Dan takes his glass, sits down again, stares at the floor. Meg considers him for a few moments. Then reaches out to touch his shoulder.
Meg: Dan...I...I'm sorry. I'll get that door fixed. Tonight!
(Exits. Wall down)
Scene I
Friday, late afternoon. Scene as before but now winter. It's obviously cold outside: leaves tumbling across stage, bare tree in background, windows in law office frosted over--Dan's windows are clear. Blues and the occasional flash of photo lights at windows emanate from Dan's apartment. Suddenly, the music stops. An irate female voice is heard within. Dan's front door opens, out walks Bambi bundled up in a thick coat, carrying the same large purse as in Scene I.
Dan: (Pleading) One more shot, Bambi, just half an hour more...please, Bambi, my deadline's two days away...the bathtub!...we'll do it in the bathtub...l'll fill it with hot water...got plenty hot water...just one more shot, a quickie...
Bambi cuts him off
Bambi: No way, Danny-boy! I ain't gonna catch pneumonia for you or no one else. If you don't get that heater fixed, Sweetie, you ain't gonna see hide or hair of me again till summer. Ciao-baby.
She exits with a rapid clicking of high heels. Dan watches helplessly, shivers and re-enters his apartment. Wall goes up. He's working on the heater, wearing gloves, a jacket and knit cap. It is an old fashioned wall heater with the controls set about a foot off the floor.
Dan: Damn! (Bangs his thumb) Stay lit, damn you, or I'll...
He has an idea. Goes to phone. Dials. Wall goes up on office to show Sally at desk.
Sally : (Answers phone) Law office of Meg Landry.
Dan: Hi, Sal. This is Dan next door. Is Meg in?
Sally: Ms Landry is with a client. May I help you?
Dan: Only if you can fix this goddamned heater. I'm freezing my ass off.
Sally: (Icily) Just a moment, Mr Galliano.
She puts him on hold.
Dan: (Into the dead phone) Call me Dan!
Pause. Meg comes on phone, talks quickly, without greeting
Meg: If there's a problem, Mr Galliano, cursing at Sally won't solve it. You've upset her needlessly. Now calm down and tell me what's wrong.
Dan: I didn't say anything to Sally. I just told her the heater doesn't work. It's freezing!
Meg: I'm sure you simply don't know how to make it work. The instructions are written on the heater door. Have you read them?
Dan: (Pause) No. Yes. Some of them. The letters are small. They assume you know things I don't. I'm not good at analytical reasoning.
Meg: I realize men have fragile egos, Mr Galliano, but if it won't totally devastate you, I'll talk you through the lighting sequence...
Dan: Call me Dan.
Meg: ...the controls are very simple. I have the identical heater in my bedroom. There is a button and a knob. The button is red. Press the button and light the pilot simultaneously. That's tricky, but anyone over fourteen can manage it. I assume you have a match. One is normally enough, you, however, may need several. Let the pilot burn for about a minute. Release the button and turn the knob. Now I must get back to work. Goodbye, Mr Galliano.
Hangs up. Dan reads the instructions printed on the heater door.
Dan: "...depress the red button and light the pilot. Let burn one minute. Release button and turn knob full open." Damn.
He lights the pilot and turns on the heater. Immediately he turns it off and reaches for the phone.
Sally : Law office of Meg Landry.
Dan: Hi, Miss Sally, Daniel Galliano again. I apologize for the way I talked before, I don't handle stress well. Is Meg there?
Sally doesn't reply, simply hands the phone to Meg mouthing "Dan" and pointing toward the apartment.
Meg: Yes?
Dan: Meg, my ego isn't nearly as fragile as your ex-husbands. I can't get this (pause) blasted heater to work. Could you come over--just for a second!--and help me? Please, Meg. It's freezing!
Meg: Leave my ex-husband out of this. In many ways he was a very fine man. Mr. Galliano, I have a legal practice to run. I'm sure, if you try real hard, read the instructions very slowly--it's ok to move your lips--you'll figure it out.
Dan: (Begging) Please, Meg. I'm so cold, my fingers are numb. I have the refrigerator open for warmth. Please, Meg, you know how it's done. Christian charity...Meg, I'm out of matches! Brrrrr.!
Meg: (Thinking) I'll give you two minutes, Mr Galliano. Goodbye.
As Meg hangs up the phone, Sally regards her steadily with a disbelieving gaze.
Meg: (A little embarrassed) Blast Mr Galliano!
Sally silently reaches for her purse and the mace, Meg stops her with an impatient gesture and steps out . As Dan--still bundled up--lets her in, he says shyly:
Dan: Hi. Thanks.
Without a word she moves directly to the heater, Dan following. Stooping down to reach the heater controls, her skirt moves up her thigh forcing her to make an elaborate effort to stay modest while simultaneously striking a match, inclining her head low to view pilot and very pointedly trying to ignore Dan, who is stooping next to her. With Meg's thumb pushing the pilot button down, waiting for the pilot to catch, Dan attempts a halting dialog:
Dan: I appreciate this, Meg...you're a great landlady. (Pause) Nice suit you're wearing. (Meg pulls further at the hem of her skirt) I just put coffee on, would you like a cup? (No answer) My stove works fine. Thanks. (Pause) How do you like your coffee? (Silence) You look like a cream and sugar girl. (Meg cringes at the sound of 'girl,' but remains silent) One lump or two? Two. I'll add a little milk to cut the acid.
Dan leaves to fetch the coffees.
Meg: (Fairly screams) Black! I mean, no thank you, I don't want any coffee and (raising her voice) don't call me 'girl' again!
Dan: Sorry, Meg, it just came out. I meant no disrespect. Won't happen again, promise.
The heater starts. Meg rises. Dan stands holding two cups of coffee.
Meg: Mr. Galliano...
Dan: Dan
Meg: (Reluctantly) Dan. We've gotten off on the wrong foot. In many ways you are a model tenant: You pay your rent on time, you are not criminally untidy, and...and...well, that's two things. Basically, you're a nice person...
Dan: Why Meg, I never heard you talk that way before.
Meg: Well, I do like you...
Dan: I mean using double negatives like that. You said I'm 'not criminally untidy.' I can never figure out what sentences with double negatives mean. Is that taught in law school?
Embarrassed by his response to her attempt at friendliness, Meg turns her head away. Alarmed by her expression, Dan quickly interjects:
Dan: Meg, I'm only teasing...
The spell broken, Meg's eyes wander to the table which is in perfect condition, a small doily with a vase of flowers rests in the center. Meg caresses the edge with her hand.
Meg: (Smiling broadly at Dan) Thank you, Dan for caring for momma's table. The surface actually shines! I've never seen it look so marvelous.
Dan: (Beaming) I waxed it.
Dan moved to cover Meg's hand with his own. Meg froze. Dan kisses her on the mouth; she kisses back. Then she retreats, pushes him away.
Meg: Dan...don't. Like I said, I like you, I do, but...I'm not ready for a relationship, not yet. I want to live for myself awhile; I don't want a man telling me what to do, how to spend money, what movies to see, what to eat....everything I recall from my marriage.
Dan: Meg...
Meg: (Cutting him off, buttoning her coat while heading for the door) And we're too different. I'm not Bimbo, Dan. (Stops to consider what she said, then laughs, Dan joins in.)
Dan: (Mildly) Bambi's not a bimbo. She's...
Meg: (Cutting him off) I'm sorry. That's not what I meant. And I don't want to discuss Bambi...or Candy or Poopsy any of your other models. I don't know what happens in here and I don't want to know. That's your business. Mine is a law firm which needs all my attention right now. I'll leave the matches. (Exits)
Dan: Poopsy?
Act Two, Scene II
Summer again, afternoon. Walls down. Photographic lights are seen through the drawn blinds of Dan's apartment, accompanied by the usual male/female laughter and this time rock music. Meg is just leaving her office and stops to watch, mesmerized. After a few seconds, the door opens, Bambi with plastered wet hair, dressed in a thin, short, loose, sleeveless dress and sandals comes out carrying the same large bag. Dan follows in socks, dressed in blue jeans and t-shirt, tails out. As they stand talking in the door, Dan, spies Meg, begins to tuck in his shirt. He calls to her:
Dan: Hi, Meg, how's everything? (Bambi waves) You remember Bambi?
Meg: Hello, Bambi. The music is booming again, Mr Galliano, I'm tired of this repetitive discussion....
Bambi: (Interrupting in a girlish sing-song voice) Hi, Peg. Say Peg, you wanna sell that ol' table in Dan's apartment? Since you ain't got room for it, and if the price is right, I jus' might take it off your hands. It may be old but it sure is strong. Shoot, It didn't even creak when I...
Dan: (Quickly) Bambi!
Bambi: What? (Looking at Dan) What?
Meg: (Flushing with anger) Dan, may I talk with you, please. (To Bambi) No, it isn't for sale. (Falsely sweet) 'Bye now.
Bambi turns, pats Dan's cheek then exits with a wiggle. Dan comes over, shyly, combing his hair with his fingers, his shirt almost all tucked in.
Dan: Bambi's a nice girl. She acts like a teen-ager, but, really, she's over twenty.
Meg: So you said. I want my table back. Now, right now. I absolutely refuse to have it made into a prop for your pornographic pictures, Mr. Galliano. I will not wait any longer. And she's not a 'girl', she's a woman! Obviously!
Dan: Meg, Bambi just leaned on it a little, that's all, not enough to hurt it any. Let it stay. I like it. I've grown used to it. It's a perfect size for an intimate dinner for two. And I'm taking good care of it, there is no candle wax on it...no spills, nothing. It's in the best of shape. Like you, I may add.
Meg: (Ignoring him) I want to see it.
Meg walks determinedly past him and enters his apartment without asking permission; Dan follows. Wall up. She walks rapidly through his apartment, ignoring the table, as if searching for something. The bedroom door is cracked open, but not open enough to see inside. She walks past it several times, trying to get a look at the bed. Then, pointing to the living room blinds:
Meg: Those blinds!
Dan: What about them?
Meg: I rent this apartment unfurnished. They were here when you moved in. Therefore, they're mine. I want them back. Now!
Meg heads for the nearest one and pulls the chord hard. The blinds shoot up.
Meg: Get a stool or something. I want them. And my table.
Dan: (Not moving, stunned, looking at her) Meg, calm down. Please.
Meg walks constantly to and fro, looking everywhere.
Meg: The bedroom blinds are mine, too.
She throws the door to the bedroom open and stalks in. Bedroom wall goes up for first time. Dan follows her inside. ~ She sees that the bed is made up neatly. She slumps her shoulders and stops talking. Almost inaudible:
Meg: The bed's made.
Dab: Every morning. Are you surprised?
Meg: But you both looked so...undressed!
Dab: (Not taking his eyes off her) We did it on the table.
Meg turns suddenly and slaps him, then turns her back on him, hiding her face in her hands. Dan remains motionless, looking at her. Finally, he reaches up to gently touch her hair. It's getting dark outside.
Meg: (Crying quietly) I'm sorry, Dan. I'm so embarrassed. (Pause)
Dan: Shhhh, it's all right. I deserved it.
Meg: No you didn't. I was totally out of line...crazy and stupid.
Dan: Crazy is good sometimes. It's all I have sometimes to get me through the day.
Meg: What are you thinking? It's so dark...I can't see your face.
Dan: I think (kisses her lightly on the lips) I'll light a candle.
Meg: There's one on momma's table. (Laughs)
Dan leaves to light a tall candle on momma's table. He has problems keeping the candle upright--it keeps falling over. In a rush, Dan forces it down and lights it. He runs to his stereo and taps a few buttons. An aria from La Bohème softly wafts through the apartment. Returns to Meg who is now sitting on the bed, looking fragile. A breeze starts up through the open door and the candle wobbles. He sits down next to her on the bed, keeping his hands in his lap.
Dan: Meg, about Bambi--she's just a model. A friend. She has two kids, boys, 5 and 7...not to mention a husband or boyfriend or something. But you're right, she's a woman, not a girl. (Pause) I'm almost twice her age. She doesn't interest me. Meg? Sweetheart? I want a woman I can talk to, relate to. Bambi's interests are limited to bubble gum, nail polish and her kids. (Pause) If I were in love...if the woman I loved felt threatened by Bambi or anyone else (pause)...I'm a good photographer, Meg, I can photograph anything. Meg, I wouldn't let anything threaten the woman I loved. Meg...?
Meg, silent, leans into him, sobbing softly, her head on his shoulder. Dan kisses her hair. They are barely visible in the dark bedroom. Another breeze shakes the candle. They begin to caress each other. They lay down and begin to make love. After a few seconds, a large breeze rises and knocks the candle over. The table top begins to burn, the varnish and wax hissing and sizzling, overpowering Pavarotti.
Meg: What's that noise. Stop, Dan, please. I hear something.
Dan: (Listening) Sounds like steaks grilling.
The table burns brighter. A smoke alarm goes off. Meg screams.