Original subtitles

Can you believe all of these sympathy cards?

Aunt Bonnie.

Didn't I meet her in Memphis after your mother's funeral?

She brought the sweet potato casserole. No, she brought the sweet potato pie.

Aunt Daisy brought the sweet potato casserole.

That was a sweet potato casserole?

I thought it was a sweet potato pudding.

Sweet potato pudding?

Nobody ever makes sweet potato pudding.

You're thinking about the sweet potato dip.

That was a sweet potato dip?

Uh -huh. I thought it was a... Okay, I'm tired of this game.

Here, Mom, I made you some chamomile tea.

Oh, thanks, Zoe.

I'm so proud of you, the way you've handled this whole thing.

And I know it hasn't been easy losing your grandma and all.

Not to mention a whole week with my relatives.

Oh, it wasn't so bad. I can handle being called rusty and big red.

And carrot top.

I'm still so mad at you for that, Mary Ann.

I was just trying to fit in.

I'm going to take a bath.

Emily, you just took a bath an hour ago.

Well, I missed a spot.

She hasn't left the house in two days.

It gets worse. She had bacon for breakfast, and she didn't hum her little

tummy song while she ate it.

Yeah, but she'll get over this.

However, if she fails to moan while eating donuts, call me immediately.

Wow, check out this box.

Meemaw saved Mom's little baby shoes.

Picture of Mom on a pony.

Oh, look at this. A little Oscar she made out of Play -Doh.

Best actress in the whole world and outer space plus infinity.

Sybil acting.

Wow, that's weird. I always thought Meemaw looked down on Mom's career.

this is obviously something she liked well enough to keep.

Barbarian breath getting in the way of your love life?

Missed.

Well,

that was humiliating.

Mother sure picked a good time to take a bath.

I agree.

Now we have time to watch it again.

Work if you can get it, and if you get it, won't you tell me how?

Again!

Let's see if Virginia saved any more of Sybil's greatest hits.

All right, here we go.

Oh, please let it be the Pampios commercial where she played the

the one where she's a fabric softener lady who lives inside the pillow.

Happy Mother's Day, Ma.

Sure I can hold.

You think I didn't realize your people celebrated Mother's Day?

Only for the last hundred years. Before that, we laid our eggs on the beach and

swam away.

Well,

you're a good son anyway.

20 years I knew that woman.

For 20 years she called me Isaac.

I'm going to miss that.

Hey, y 'all.

Ira, we might as well start going over Mama's papers.

Sure, if you're up to it. We probably should take care of our outstanding

first.

Hey, Mother, how about if I do up a list of the people who sent flowers and

donation cards so you can do thank you notes later?

Okay.

But do I have to use the computer?

It doesn't like me.

When you're not home, it makes nasty noises at me.

Oh, stop looking so innocent. You know you do.

Jonathan Martin.

I don't know. Why?

There's some letters here that Meemaw was getting ready to mail, and this

addressed to Jonathan Martin, Bakersfield, California.

Oh,

bless her heart.

When Meemaw didn't know the street address, she'd just send the letter to

town.

She figured after she spent all that money on a stamp, she was going to make

work for it.

I bet it's a complaint letter. Remember that one time she found a peanut in her

toasted almonds?

She sent the peanut back and insisted they send an apology and a replacement

almond.

Mal, open it.

No, I can't read Mama's mail. She'd be so mad.

She would have been so mad.

Mom, what is it?

My dearest Jonathan, I know it might be strange to hear from me after all these

years, but not a day goes by when I don't think of you and I needed to write

let you know I love you.

I don't think it's the almond guy.

You don't want to see me, I'll understand.

You have your family and I have mine, but I have always wished things could

been different with us.

All my love forever, Virginia.

Whoa. Who is this guy?

Is this someone she knew before Daddy?

She certainly never mentioned him to me.

Do you think she had an affair?

Well, I always assumed my father was the love of her life. She never did or said

anything to make me think otherwise.

Well, except for that little divorce thing.

It doesn't matter who he is. Without the address, he's not going to get the

letter.

That's too bad, because it was obviously really important to Mama.

His full name is Jonathan Stuart Martin. He lives at 6256 Maple Street,

Bakersfield, California, 93302.

How did you do that?

It's called the Internet.

See, it's like the Pony Express, but with little tiny ponies running through

wires.

Yeah.

Who's a good computer? You are.

This is on its way. I'm getting dressed.

Well, that's more like it.

Even a trip to the post office is better than spending another day in the

bathtub. Darling, I'll drive you.

Great. It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours to get to Bakersfield,

if you've got to pee, go now.

You too, Carrot Top.

Mother, we're totally lost. We are not lost.

We are just in between places we recognize.

Which is because someone wouldn't let me stop the car and ask directions.

The man was riding a huge, smelly animal.

Marianne, it was a tractor.

Please, let's not relive the moment.

I'm going to go get directions and a ride home.

These books are disgusting.

And this cleaning utensil is utterly useless.

There is such a fine line between rich and helpless.

Sybil, I know I asked this at the rest stop between the Lightbeer Museum and

replica of the world's largest artichoke, but why are we here?

My mother wants Jonathan Martin to get that letter, and I'm going to deliver

Besides, this is a part of my mother's life I know nothing about. I want to

him.

Wouldn't you if it was your mother?

Certainly not.

What could be gained from seeing someone from so far in her past?

Someone who probably toyed with her and then, when she was most vulnerable,

dumped her for some medical technician whose only talent was remaining warm

without the benefit of underwear.

And the next thing you know, the backseat boss in Oven is Bentley.

While I'm at home explaining to the 50 guests I invited to his surprise

party that he's in surgery doing an emergency butt lift. The rat bastard!

That man is not Dick.

We have no idea what kind of bastard he is.

Okay, I got directions. You won't believe how close we are.

Really? You know, just now I'm thinking my mother obviously never wanted me to

know about him and probably didn't want him to know about me.

Maybe I should have just mailed the letter.

You're changing your mind now?

After we drove all the way out to Green Acres?

Excuse me.

Have I not spent half my life waiting for you to decide between a Chanel tote

a Chanel clutch?

Tote. Clutch.

Tote. Clutch. Tote. Clutch. Tote.

Well, you can mail the letter if you want to, but you see that diner over

He owns it.

You're kidding.

That could be him.

He's cheating on my mama.

That rat bastard!

Look at the way he's pouring her coffee.

He's so smug.

Like, look at me. I'm Mr. Groovy Coffee Guy.

He must pay.

Oh, goody, I'm in Bakersfield with the Psycho Sisters. Maybe if we're lucky,

we'll get to ride in a police car.

You're right.

I'm being irrational.

I don't know anything about that man.

Leave the bleeding hot crap at the door, sister.

We're just lucky I brought a car with a big trunk.

Marianne, chill.

If we go to jail, you'll have to wear the same outfit as everybody else.

That's ridiculous. How do they tell the prisoners from the hell?

Let's take this table.

Marianne, sit.

No.

We'll start a tragic chain of events.

First I would sit and stick there.

And I would be... forced to order something called deluxe or combo.

And then pressured by the natives, I would nibble at the edges, and before

know it, I'd be living above a laundromat and ordering Miracle Mops off

Fine. Stan.

But from outside, you look like our waitress.

Wow, look at this menu.

They've got chili fries and meatloaf.

Gosh, I love places like this. Simple and real.

In L .A., everything is so pretentious and complicated.

Anybody want coffee? I'll have a double shot of French roast espresso with

steamed nonfat milk on the side. Anybody want coffee?

Zoe, stop.

She does not know our ways.

Jonathan Martin?

Yep. You know him?

Uh, just a sec.

Do I know him?

Technically, no. Then how'd you know his name?

You're right. I have to know him.

Okay, I know him.

You want me to send him over?

Just a sec.

Should he come over?

What will you say to him?

I don't know. Then he shouldn't come over.

No, thank you.

Would she like to hear today's specials?

I would like a vodka martini, two olives.

We don't have a bar.

This is Earth, isn't it?

and a double thick milkshake. Oh, my God. I'm sorry. I'll have the coffee.

please don't kick me out.

No, no, no, no. It's not that. I just figured out why you look so familiar.

At first, I thought you were my Aunt Sylvie, but then I told myself, Claire,

Aunt Sylvie would recognize you and say something.

You're the big horn lady with the bad breath.

I just love it when you hit that high note and you kill that Viking guy.

Would you mind hanging it? I don't think...

Your grandfather's the owner?

Jonathan? Yeah.

Just a sec. I know the drill.

That's his granddaughter.

She seems nice.

She's just protecting him.

Excuse me.

My shift's up in a little bit, and I needed to ask you a question.

I could ever make it as an actress.

It's something I've always wanted to do, but people say you have to be really

skinny to be an actress.

But you're an actress, and you just sort of cheesecake, and that's nothing but a

big old slab of lard.

It is not.

Okay, it is, but that's not what's important.

Listen.

Claire. Claire.

Being skinny has absolutely nothing to do with acting or happiness.

Those retouched photos of those emaciated -looking women in those

they aren't real.

They're just an image designed to make you feel like you aren't good enough.

But you have to reprogram yourself.

When you see a picture of a skinny woman, you have to say, that's not real,

that's not real, that's not real. I am not going to let that make me feel bad

about myself.

And then you go out and have a big old piece of slab -a -lard cheesecake any

time you want!

Damn.

If only I liked you. cheesecake.

But just for that, yours is on the house.

Do you hear that? Free cheesecake.

We're moving here.

That's what you said three hours ago. I'm warning you, Sybil. If I don't show

at Neiman's tomorrow, it's going to create a panic.

Sweetie, you could always just drop the letter in the mail.

No. I am not leaving without asking him about Meemaw.

Well, are you really surprised he never told you about him? I mean, they'd have

an affair.

Since Meemaw refused to even talk about sex, she certainly wasn't going to admit

to actually having had it.

But if she told me, maybe I would have known her better. Maybe I would have

more patient with her.

Maybe we wouldn't have had that fight.

What fight?

On the phone.

The last time I talked to her.

Oh, you know how we were always getting on each other's nerves.

I didn't know she was having chest pain.

She was probably calling me to tell me about it. And then we had a fight that

she didn't tell me. But if she told me about it, I probably could have made her

go in for those tests.

Sybil, I know you're feeling terrible right now, but it's not your fault.

I know, but damn it, I wasn't ready for her to die.

There were some things I needed to tell her.

Like... how she made better pecan pie than me.

Not the chocolate caramel crunch kind, but the plain kind.

And how I was the one that cut that piece out of her velvet curtains to make

gown for my Barbie for the Tonys.

And how deeply grateful I am.

That she made me go to church and sing in the choir.

Because that's where I discovered how much I loved to perform.

I'm sure she knew that.

But I didn't get a chance to say goodbye.

And I can't chase after her. I can't call her.

I can't hug her for the last time. I don't think I'm ever going to forgive

for that.

Sorry, ladies.

I'm about to close up.

Oh, that's okay.

We're sorry. We'll just get out of your way.

Give him the letter now, because if you don't, you'll regret it. And we're going

to have to stop at every derviner schnitzel between here and Los Angeles.

And I will never get the smell out of my car.

Snob. If I put it on a roogala and charge you $50 for it, you'd love it.

Hey, don't you leave without giving me an autograph.

Mind if I ask you a question?

Go right ahead.

Did you know Virginia Sheridan?

No, it doesn't ring a bell.

Her maiden name was Miller, Virginia Miller.

Yes.

I knew Virginia Miller a long time ago in Memphis.

She was my mother.

And she died last week before she got a chance to mail you this letter?

I wanted to bring it to you personally because, well, she never told me about

you.

Oh, no.

You got the wrong man.

What do you mean? Aren't you Jonathan Martin?

Yes, I am, but this letter is for my son, Jonathan Martin, Jr.

My mother had an affair with your son?

No.

We adopted him.

Virginia was his birth mother.

What? She was only 16 when he was born, and back in those days, well, there was

only one thing a respectable unmarried woman could do.

She gave the baby up for adoption.

I can't believe she never told me this.

Well, it was hard for her.

But your mother gave me and my wife...

One of the greatest gifts that we could have ever hoped for.

I never stopped being grateful to her for that.

Whoa.

I have a brother I never knew about.

You must have been so hard on me, Ma, keeping this a secret for 50 years.

Does your son still live here? I mean, can we meet him?

Sorry.

Jonathan died two years ago.

Thank you.

But I still got my granddaughter.

Hi. Hi.

Hi.

Hi.

Hi. Hi.

So did your grandfather call you and tell you all about this? Yeah, he did.

So... What do I call you?

Sybil.

Or Aunt Sybil, I guess, if you want to. Aunt Sybil works for me.

I'm your cousin, Zoe.

And I'm your Marianne.

Come on in.

Suddenly I'm in the mood for cheesecake.

Great. I want to hear about your father. And I want to tell you all about your

grandmother.

You would have loved her.

You sit down.

She can help, Mother. You sit down.

I can do it.

She's in a delicate condition.

Come on, Meemaw. She's not sick. She's pregnant.

I know she is, Zoe.

I also know what is appropriate dinner table conversation.

Meemaw's right, Zoe.

You should have said Rachel is in the condition a lady gets in after having

and lots of sex.

I'll have a little more Kahlua.

Oh, Mom.