Original subtitles

I remember before I was born...

...wadded up like a fur ball in the highly overrated foetal position.

Luckily, I'm not claustrophobic...

...but on rainy days, I still feel a tightness in my left shoulder.

Now that my stepmother's pregnant...

...I understand what the baby's going through...

...and I'm not jealous at all.

Really, not at all.

- You're not eating your meatloaf. - Lf I eat it, I'll throw up.

- You should at least try a little bit. - Then I'll throw up a little bit.

Are you sure you wanna get involved in this?

Try to scrunch these chairs together more.

Dad, I'm trying to. They're chairs. They don't scrunch.

I'll get it.

We'll just set up more chairs in the library...

...and pipe the sermon in like once before.

Fix that speaker. It makes the minister sound like an astronaut.

- Hello, Judy - Hi, Arthur.

- Hi, Judy. Come on in. - Hi, Mr. Sultenfuss.

Look who I found.

Hi, Judy.

Hi.

Come on in.

That's okay.

It's just a corpse.

I know that.

You should see a body that's been dead for a couple of days...

...and they haven't found it yet...

...'cause it was in an apartment, and no one came to visit.

Or floating in a river.

And then the body starts turning this weird shade of green.

You know, like watery pea soup?

The arms and legs deteriorate first.

The body looks like a raisin with four fat legs.

Anyway.

This is why I'm seriously considering cremation.

Judy?

Judy!

I think you lost on the raisin with the four fat legs, honey.

Did you hear that, Dean? You can stay.

- Dean? - Yeah.

Dean Martin. Look at his eyes.

- They're pink. - Exactly. Dean Martin.

- The cage is all set. - Where's the bathroom?

Are you kidding? Hamsters don't go to the bathroom.

Did you look in the bag?

I got a card from your Uncle Phil in Los Angeles today.

Said he went body surfing.

I don't know if I can picture Uncle Phil body surfing.

I don't know if I want to.

Vada, I wanna ask you a favour. You can absolutely say no if you want to.

I'm just bringing it up for discussion.

But Harry, I thought we decided we weren't gonna do this.

Do what?

The thing is, your room's right next to ours, and so, we thought...

...I thought, we might move you to Gramoo's room...

...and we use your old room for the nursery.

We're gonna be up half the night with the newborn...

You want me to move?

Well, not far. Just down the hall.

Plus, Gramoo's room is a lot bigger.

And you get a view of the neighbourhood.

Okay. No problem.

Okay, thanks. Attagirl.

Harry?

I'm sorry to interrupt, honey, but Vada's upset.

She's fine. She'll love her new room.

Look, we react to every kick this baby gives.

Maybe Vada's trying to tell us something, too.

The thing to remember is you must visualise a spare.

The parabola of the arcing ball must intersect with the pyramid of the pins...

...at precisely this angle of attack.

Shit.

"Visualise" a spare?

Well, you know what I mean.

So, what's on your mind?

Me? What makes you think there's something on my mind?

You're passing up Archie Bunker to go bowling.

You've gotta have an angle.

No, I just...

...thought it'd be nice if the two of us had an evening out so we could talk.

- Shelly's already told me all about sex. - She told me, too.

I mean, she told me she told you about sex.

I personally knew about sex long before I met Shelly.

I figured you did.

Yes.

Strike. Not bad at all.

No, this talk isn't about sex.

There've been a lot of changes, and you're upset about losing your room...

...but the baby's gotta go somewhere.

No, it's okay. I understand. Really.

Honey, that's very mature.

I'm proud of you, Vada.

Maybe I should move to China.

One kid per family. That way you don't lose your room.

Just keep your room, and we'll put the baby in the backyard.

Don't do that. We've got the whole garage.

Right between the power mower and the weedkiller.

Dad, I'm kidding.

You can have the room.

- Seriously? - Seriously.

Great.

I'm 13.

Maybe it's about time I got my own apartment.

- My mother can't have any more kids. - Neither can mine.

She's dead.

It's Shelly who's pregnant.

What do you think?

I'm leaning towards "Passion Flower."

"It combines the traditional floral scent with the musky aroma of sandalwood."

- What are you staring at? - It's Kevin.

I don't want him to see me.

- See you? He can smell you from there. - Oh, God, he's coming over here.

Act natural, totally natural.

- Hi, Kevin. - Hi.

You look cool, Sultenfuss. You look like a grasshopper.

- What's the matter? - He likes you.

Likes me? He said I look like a grasshopper.

Boys always pretend they hate you when they like you.

That's ridiculous.

So, if you really can't stand someone...

...then you pretend that you're really crazy about them?

I don't know.

And I don't care. Kevin's a jerk, and I don't like him anymore.

He's all yours.

If "grasshopper" is a term of endearment, I've got a lot to learn.

So, have you guys thought of any new names for the baby?

Yeah. If it's a girl, I'm kind of leaning toward Esme.

Esme?

Yeah, that kinda sounds like a noise your nose makes.

"Esme." I mean it's...

- And what if it's a boy? - Well, Harry Jr., of course.

When a boy likes you, does he pretend that he doesn't like you?

If he pretends not to like you, how do you tell he likes you?

What boy likes you?

It's just a question. It's not about anybody.

Here comes puberty.

Vada, I think what you're talking about is the fear of rejection.

See, men will do anything to avoid looking foolish.

Shell, that's ridiculous. Where are my needlenose pliers?

If a boy wants to do homework with you...

...it means he hasn't the nerve to ask you on a date.

You get your homework together, and the next thing you know...

...you're ordering pizza and talking about your favourite movie stars.

So, you're saying...

What are you saying?

Guys don't wanna appear overanxious.

If there's a boy that might like you, let him know that you like him...

...so he won't feel he's taking such a risk when he's thinking of asking you out.

Okay?

- Hi. - Hi.

Wanna help me pick out wallpaper for my new room tomorrow?

- I don't know, I mean... - Is it okay if I drink this?

It's okay with me. Hi, Kevin.

Well, if it isn't Vada, the grasshopper girl.

Stop it, Kevin.

I was kidding. It's a joke, okay?

We were just doing our homework.

Next thing you know, you'll be ordering pizza...

...and talking about your favourite movie stars.

See you.

In the future, I think I'll stick to asking Dad for advice on embalming.

I read an article that says...

...if you sing to the baby it's a calming influence.

Assuming the baby's a Supremes fan.

- I bet your mum sang to you. - Lf there was an article about it, she did.

- She was always reading. - I know. It runs in the family. New book?

The Collected Works of Alfred Beidermeyer.

Her favourite poet.

Never heard of him.

Excuse me.

- How about a nice glass of milk? - With taco chips so I can dunk.

You know, Vada...

...being an older sister, you're gonna be very important in this baby's life.

They're enormous, I know.

Is there milk in them already?

No, the milk comes when the baby comes.

When did you...

I mean...

I was a very late developer. They used to call me "Shelly-Two-Backs."

All my friends had real bras, not like the training ones I had.

Why do they call them training bras? It's not like learning to ride a bike.

I know.

It's just sort of preparing you for the rest of your life.

It's not easy being a woman.

You're telling me.

All the great writers ponder the meaning of life and death.

I've been thinking a lot about my mother recently...

... even though I don't have any memories of her.

I wish I could see her just once, even if it were only in a dream.

I know she'd help me figure things out.

"Bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray

"Do not go gentle into that good night

"Rage, rage against the dying of the light"

What do you think Dylan Thomas is saying here?

"Rage against the dying of the light"

He's mad 'cause they shut off his electricity?

He was referring to life energy, Mr. Phillips...

...which, in your case, wouldn't cause much of a power shortage.

The poem is really about attitude.

It's about not giving up.

It's easy to be overwhelmed sometimes, but...

...that's when we should force ourselves to push on.

Alfred Beidermeyer said:

"To heed the urgent inner voice...

"...embracing destiny, not choice."

That's very good, Vada.

All right, moving on.

I want to give you guys a chance to write.

Listen up!

I want you to write about someone very special.

Someone interesting. Someone you admire.

Someone who's achieved something worth writing about.

But it's gotta be a stranger. Someone you've never met.

I want you to investigate the personal side.

Play Perry Mason, see what you can come up with. All right?

Any ideas?

Remember two things: Someone who has achieved something...

...and someone you've never met.

- Kevin? - Elvis, the King.

Elvis, the King.

- Devin? - Farrah Fawcett.

I love to watch that girl run.

Why is that, Mr. Reed?

Never mind.

Vada, what about you? Who have you come up with?

My mother.

Your mother?

I never met my mother.

I know my mum's favourite colour was pink and she ate peanut butter...

...and banana sandwiches for breakfast, but that's not what I would call "hard facts."

- I told you about the pumpkin, didn't I? - No.

I bought her this huge pumpkin for Halloween.

She couldn't bear to carve it so she saved it.

It ended up under the Christmas tree.

Then Gramoo said on Christmas Eve there was this sickening smell...

...permeating the entire house. - No.

When I picked it up, it sort of exploded and liquefied at the same time.

It wasn't funny. It soaked through Gramoo's Oriental.

There's still a big spot on the floor.

Okay. We need wallpaper paste. Hey, Cece.

Isn't there anything else you remember?

How did you propose? Was it romantic?

I kinda just blurted it out over a root beer float.

Root beer float, that sounds good.

Did she mention any contest that she won? I mean, she must have had some awards.

She was so talented and all.

She was talented.

Honey, I wish I could help you a little more.

It's just that your mother and I had kind of a whirlwind courtship.

She came to town with a travelling theatre group.

I proposed on our second date, two weeks later we were married.

Almost nine months later, you were here and she was gone.

- Was it a nice funeral? - Yes. Lovely funeral.

Grenaldi Brothers did a beautiful job.

Lots of pink roses, and I used the white hearse.

How about this flowered wallpaper for your room?

How about this?

- Hi, Mr. Owett. - Hey, Veda.

- How's your report coming? - Great.

I have so much to say, I hardly know where to start.

I've been rereading Virginia Woolf. I think she'd be a natural for you.

She led a fascinating life.

Thanks, but I think I'm gonna stick to my mum.

She led a fascinating life, too.

I'm sure she did.

He was giving you an easy out so you didn't have to write about your mother.

But I want to write about her.

You're crazy. What was her big achievement?

- Did she invent gravity? - No one invented gravity.

It just exists.

Then what did she do?

Well, I'm not supposed to talk about it...

...but since I'm going to write about it, I might as well tell you.

She was a spy against the Russians.

Please. Who do you think you're kidding?

And where did she spy on the Russians from?

Here in Pennsylvania?

No, not here in Pennsylvania.

She went to Russia undercover with her acting troupe...

...and got a lot of highly sensitive secret plans sent back.

Just when she was about to go home, she got caught and they killed her.

So, when did she have you between all of her acting...

...and spying and getting caught?

That's simple.

She was pregnant with me when she went to Russia, but didn't know.

When the Russians found out, they waited to shoot her.

You're not allowed to kill pregnant women anywhere in the world.

So she had you in jail in Russia?

Well, actually, I was born in Siberia and then they shot her...

...and sent me home to my dad.

If bullshit wore a bra, you'd be top-heavy.

Come on, Judy.

Ask anyone. Ask my dad.

It could be true.

How come guys talk so much when they have nothing to say...

... and girls have plenty to say, but no one'll listen?

I used to come down here and sleep on this spot when I was little.

My report's gonna be a disaster.

Everything I know about her fits into one little box.

A box?

Oh, Vada, what a sweet baby book!

It's only filled out to page two.

I was eight pounds, four ounces.

There are so many programmes.

She was in a lot of plays.

Dad said that when she was on stage...

...she held the audience in the palm of her hand.

What's this? "December 8, 1958."

I don't know. Dad doesn't either.

Well, it must mean something.

She was obviously very sentimental.

This, that's one of my favourite things, her passport.

Vada, she's so beautiful.

"Margaret Ann Muldovan, born in Los Angeles, California...

"...February 7, 1936." Aquarius.

Margaret's my middle name, but everybody called her Maggie.

- Los Angeles. Have you ever been there? - No.

You know, they say that it never rains...

...that you can barbecue on Christmas Day.

Instead of riding your bike, you just surf over to your friend's house.

The place is just crawling with celebrities.

I know someone who saw Walter Matthau picking up his dry cleaning.

Is that why Uncle Phil moved there?

Uncle Phil just needed a change.

A little adventure.

I wonder why she got a passport if she never went anywhere?

Well, you've gotta be prepared.

I'm definitely travelling some day.

Why not now?

What do you mean?

How would you like to visit your Uncle Phil in Los Angeles...

...next week, during your spring vacation? You could do research on your mum.

But what about you and the baby? You need me.

But I'm not due to have the baby for another six weeks or so.

It would be kind of great.

It would be fantastic!

But Dad will never go for it.

You leave your father to me.

You should encourage her to spread her wings.

She can spread her wings here in Pennsylvania.

You don't send a child to Los Angeles.

She could come back with her ears pierced and legs shaved.

She's not a child. She's a young woman.

- She's on the brink of... - Disaster.

- Disaster lurks behind every palm tree. - You're being narrow-minded.

Maybe when she's a little older, I'd be more than happy to bring...

Hi, Vada. We were just having a little...

You were just having a fight about me.

Wouldn't you like to hear my opinion?

Of course.

I think that if I'm old enough to accept a new baby...

...and old enough to accept a new room...

...I'm old enough for California.

I know it's fun to think about these things, but...

I already bought a ticket.

- What? - I used my money and got a great deal.

It's a Q47-NR five-day fare...

...which means I'll change planes in Dallas and stay over a Saturday.

There's no exchanges or refunds, so if you don't let me go...

...then I will have wasted my entire life savings.

Isn't it against the law to sell airline tickets to minors?

Don't tell me you aided and abetted this little scheme?

Vada needed me.

The airline requires the signature of an adult.

They forgot to ask for one who wasn't having hormone surges.

Come on, Harry! We're talking about five days here.

We're going overboard for just a simple school assignment.

It's not a little school assignment.

I think maybe all of this is happening for a reason.

Reason? What reason? What?

Phil's moving to LA, Gramoo's passing. The baby being born.

Vada's report.

Maybe all of these are signs. Signs that it's time for Vada to take this trip.

Signs?

Let me get the Loch Ness Monster on the phone.

You two have a lot to talk about.

No, I'm sorry. Vada is not going to Los Angeles.

Now, I have made my decision, and that is final.

And remember, don't talk to anyone.

Even if a nun sits next to you, don't talk to her.

No nuns. Got it.

And no boys. Promise me.

Those LA people are all so corrupt, you'll end up pregnant and on drugs.

Don't run to me when you're in the morgue with a toe tag...

...having been beaten to an unrecognisable pulp by a surfer.

And don't make eye contact.

It communicates an implied vulnerability.

What does that mean?

It means I'm a paranoid nitwit who's never let his baby girl...

...out of his sight for the simple reason he's a paranoid nitwit.

So, why don't you just say, "Oh, Dad," and get on the damn plane already.

'Bye, Dad. I'll miss you.

Thanks. I needed that.

I'll be back in 137 hours.

Have fun!

Not too much.

It's hard to believe that my mother's whole life fits into this box.

I've just got to think of this stuff as clues. Or good-luck charms.

But I need more than luck to solve this puzzle.

I need a miracle.

Arriving passengers, Flight 57, your baggage is now available...

... on Carousel 2.

Arriving passengers please go to ticket agent...

... at the airline's reservation counter.

Are you waiting for someone?

Excuse me, I asked you a question.

I'm not suppose to talk to strangers, not even nuns.

You're Vada, right?

- How did you know my name? - Your Uncle Phil told me.

Where is he? He was supposed to meet me.

Hey, relax! You think I kidnapped him or something?

This is California. Anything's possible.

Well, if I was looking for a victim, I wouldn't pick your Uncle Phil...

...who outweighs me by about 150 pounds.

Besides, who would I ask for ransom? You?

Are you suffering from a chemical imbalance or is it just an attitude problem?

My only problem is that your uncle's given me $5 to pick you up...

...but I don't get paid till delivery.

Gee, that is a problem.

Put that down! I'll call the police!

What are you gonna do? Tell them that a polite person helped carry your bag?

You're not very polite.

I don't think you're very grateful. A lot of people would say thank you.

- Thank you. - Don't mention it.

- I don't even know your name. - It's Nick. There you go.

- Okay. - Thanks.

Oh, great! No cabs.

I have a gift for you.

- Thanks. - No, thanks.

- He said it was a gift. - Yeah, right.

- Look, I don't need you to be telling me to... - Taxi!

Get in. Get in!

You look like you know where to go. Where are we headed?

Take the 405 to Santa Monica, then to Whittier to Sunset.

Here you go. See that building?

My grandfather built it. Budapest Auto Repair.

That's my room, right up there.

One of these days, this is all gonna be mine.

Uncle Phil!

Vada!

Look at you!

Hi! Hi, honey! How are you?

- You look great! How's Shelly? Your dad? - They're great.

How about Nick? Did he take good care of you?

He was very polite. Worth the entire $5.

Well, good to know.

Thanks.

Give it back, Nicholas.

But we made a business deal!

Whatever happened to a good-old-fashioned favour?

Our family's been dealing with your company...

...for over 40 years. Either the chain is here or it isn't, and I don't see it.

You wanna come down and explain why...

...we can't fix cars 'cause parts aren't here? Come on.

I already have weight trouble. I don't need your blubber.

Are we clear on this, or do I have to speak with your father?

Thank you.

Yes, yes, I love you too, Irving.

You must be Vada!

Oh, what a face!

Oh, if I had a face like that, I wouldn't have to yell so much.

I'm Rose. Rose Zsigmond. Nick's mother, among other things.

You're Nick's mother?

Did you think he was raised by a pack of wolves?

Don't be misled by the haircut.

Mum!

Who knew when I started working in the finest foreign car shop in LA...

...I'd also find the light of my life?

Well, he left out a couple of steps.

I've gotta get back to these bills.

Will you help Vada get settled?

Come on. I'll show you where you're gonna stay.

Here we go.

Not what you expected from downstairs, right?

Now, we'll put your stuff over here in this closet.

You can unpack later.

This is where you sleep. Luckily, this sofabed is really comfortable.

I can tell you that from personal experience.

Bathroom. You have to?

Rose and my room.

She lives here, too?

That's right. Like one big happy family.

This is Nick's room and...

But are you engaged or something?

Dating, seriously dating.

You're thirsty. You want something to drink?

Sure you do. It's been a long trip.

You see, Vada, marriage is a very big step.

And not something to be entered into lightly.

I just wanna make very sure that everything is absolutely...

...right before I go jumping into some kind...

Sounds like you have a fear of commitment, Uncle Phil.

That's ridiculous. I'm very, what do you call it?

- Committed? - Committed.

So, does that mean you sleep here every night?

Yes, it does.

Well, that's not exactly dating, is it?

Vada, I know that traditionally, you're not supposed to do a lot of these things...

...before you're officially married...

...but these are very special circumstances.

When sex is involved, it's always "special circumstances."

My parents had a brief but intensely fulfilling relationship.

She's remained a woman of mystery to this day.

And you're gonna solve the mystery?

I got it all figured out. She went to Wilson High School...

...so first thing tomorrow, I'll go there and get a copy of her yearbook.

That way I get the names of people she was in clubs with...

...and find out about her friends.

Then you'll be all set.

- Sounds like you're very organised. - I have to be. I only have five days.

Just point me in the right direction and...

I'll do better than that. I'll send you off with your own private guide.

I'd consider it a personal favour.

It isn't like you had a whole lot to plan for this week, right?

It'll be okay.

Here you go.

- What's that? - $10.

- What's it for? - For the mini-bike fund.

I know you're not crazy about taking Vada around tomorrow...

...so I just want you to know I appreciate it though.

- No problem. - You're a good man, Nicholas.

Phil, I think you should consider...

I thought my mum went to school in LA.

We've gotta be closing in on the Grand Canyon.

I'm sure for a trip to the Grand Canyon...

...you'd charge a little more than $10.

You know, eavesdropping is a very unattractive habit.

I wasn't eavesdropping. I was overhearing.

I didn't ask for the money. Phil just gave it to me.

Look, I know that all you care about is your precious mini-bike.

It's obvious you have no sense of historical perspective. I think we're here.

Getting off, please!

Excuse me. Pardon. Thank you. Excuse me.

Where's the school?

"Due to a devastating fire, June 17, 1963, Wilson High School was closed."

I can't believe it!

My mother's high school burned down.

They obviously have no sense of historical perspective either.

It's not funny. I mean, what am I gonna do?

Without that yearbook, I'm lost.

I can't just walk around looking for someone with a Wilson High sweater.

- Vada. - What?

Calm down.

We just have to ask ourselves where yearbooks come from.

I mean, they don't appear out of thin air.

Watch these machines, now.

- This is really very nice of you. - No problem. I had a mother once myself.

If it's in here at all, it's in the back two rows.

- Okay, thank you very much. - Happy hunting.

I don't mean to alarm you, but I'm getting a nosebleed from the altitude.

Just remember the needle in the haystack.

I never did understand that story. Did they find the needle or not?

- What difference does it make? - A big difference.

If they found it, we should keep looking. If not, we're wasting our time.

Oh, my gosh! Here it is.

Look, here she is. "Margaret Ann Muldovan.

"Newspaper, Literary Magazine, French Club, Drama Club...

"...Glee Club, Girls Basketball and Swim Team.

"With Maggie's combo of good looks and talent, we'll surely see her name in lights."

She was gonna be famous.

Yearbooks always set you up for disappointment.

I want mine to say:

"Nick probably won't amount to much...

"...so don't be surprised if you never hear anything about him again."

Can we go?

It smells like someone left their gym bag in here.

It's the leather bindings. I love the fragrance of vintage books.

I love the fragrance of chilidogs.

He was on the school paper with my mum.

Great. A full page of Tanakas, 15 with the initial "D."

This is gonna be tough.

Don't forget, the girls changed their names if they got married.

I'll never do that.

- Get married? - Change my name.

You think the guy should change his name?

I don't think anybody should change their name.

That way you can always find them when you need them.

What if you don't wanna be found?

Why do you argue with everything I say?

- Hi. - Can I help you?

Does someone named Daryl Tanaka work here?

Hey, Tanaka! You got company!

It's too bad about your mum, but at least she went peacefully.

I've seen a lot of people go out the hard way.

What do you remember about her?

Well, we worked on the school paper together.

I remember when the Legion of Decency declared Rebel Without a Cause unfit.

Boy, that Jim Backus! What an actor, huh? What an actor!

She wrote this article about censorship and the First Amendment.

She was really something.

Graduation? Some big-deal congressman saying Senator McCarthy...

...was the greatest American ever.

Maggie gets up in front of 500 people, walks out.

Couple of people followed her, too.

Took a lot of guts.

Wow, you walked out with my mother?

Are you kidding? My parents would've shot me.

I was the president of the Young Republicans.

Nisei, second generation. Hall monitor.

I didn't wanna start World War III.

You saved a lot of lives. You should be very proud.

I'm trying to find out her greatest achievement.

She was the first girl ever suspended for smoking.

Suspended from school? My mother?

Everyone was really surprised when Maggie was turned in.

She got kicked out for two weeks.

What kinda sleazoid geek would turn her in?

I would do it again!

You ratted on my mother?

Who are you, Hitler's hall monitor?

Maybe you should join a hippie commune.

Let me tell you something.

Sooner or later, it's gonna be your turn to take out the garbage.

What about giving the other guy a break?

What about living in the real world, pal?

Tanaka. Got a minute?

I'll be right there.

I'd be a little more careful of who I hung around with.

Care for a smoke?

This'll be great in my report. "My mother was suspended for smoking."

- I think it's cool. - You would.

You'd rather have a mother that's a member of the police state?

Rules are made to be broken.

- I want there to be no question... - Just ask him.

... that the President has nothing to hide in this matter.

- Hello. - Hi.

What can I do for you?

I'm staying at the Ch�teau and the guy...

...who runs the garage there said that you're the best Jag people in town.

Well, Enrique is great, and we are the best.

- Well, then I have come to the right place. - I guess you have.

I'm Sam Helburn. Sam.

Rose.

- So, what's wrong? - Nothing. Nothing at all.

I mean, with your car?

Oh. Oil change.

I just drove in from Chicago and...

Nice hair.

Excuse me?

I was commenting on your hair.

Oh, are you a hairdresser?

I'm a paediatric cardiologist.

You mean you fix the hearts of little babies?

Mostly little babies, but not exclusively.

It's all in the hands. You know, you have nice hands.

- You operate? - Yes, I do.

So, I guess I'll always teach, you know, because...

...it makes a good relief from the operating room.

- I feel I have an obligation to pass along... - Hi. Phil Sultenfuss. Sorry.

- Some kind of problem here? - No, there's no problem.

Dr. Helburn just needs to have his oil changed.

I see.

'Cause usually that doesn't require such a lengthy consultation.

Well, Rose was being very thorough.

Was Rose?

Why don't you come in tomorrow morning at 8:00, when we open?

- We'll get started. - I'll be here.

I look forward to it.

I'm sorry. I'll get that for you. Don't worry.

Made it worse.

Get that for you in the morning. Nice wheels.

Thanks.

Why was he touching you?

He wasn't touching me. He was just gesturing.

- He was caressing you. - For God's sake!

God? I didn't think you'd want to invoke God...

...because he saw more than I did.

Phil, if you want the rights of a husband, you'll have to ask me something.

If not, you'll have to get accustomed to the rights of what you are.

- What's that? - Right now?

An intimate boarder with mechanical skills.

Hi.

Oh, hi! How's the investigation going?

Just call us the "Dead End Kids."

- May I use the phone, please? - Oh, yeah, sure. Help yourself.

Anyone with taste, anyone with breeding...

A gentleman would choose British racing green with maybe a tan interior.

But when you buy a red car with a black interior...

...and wire wheels, you have one thing on your mind...

...and I'm too much of a gentleman to say what that one thing is...

...in front of the children.

Even if I am just a glorified boarder.

Hi. I'd like the number for Stanley Rosenfeld Photo Studios.

Photography is an art form, if you take it seriously enough...

...which I happen to do.

- Esther, you gorgeous thing, you. - Stanley!

- Smile for the birdie! Hold, hold. - Stomach in, Harold.

Beautiful.

- Thank you. - Thank you.

Your mother was something special.

To tell you the truth, I had quite a crush on her.

- Really? - Who didn't?

She could play basketball like Jerry West, she'd dance like Cyd Charisse.

Then she'd look at you with those blue eyes, forget about it.

I asked her out a couple of times...

...but she always said no.

Lenny, Nancy, you just got married.

Look happy! Look like you mean it.

Beautiful.

I remember those days.

Then we all went off to UCLA and she started hanging around...

...with those drama department types.

There was one guy, Peter Webb...

...who's a big director in Hollywood now.

The only reason I know him is that we were all in a big poetry class...

...with this crazy guy, Albert Boderfelder.

- Beidermeyer? - Beidermeyer, that's it!

What a madman!

- He's a great poet. - He is?

- Do you know him? - Everybody did.

Walk along Citrus between Fountain and Sunset any afternoon.

He'll remember my mother, for sure.

It was a big class, Vada, and...

But, well, of course he'll remember. Who could forget Maggie?

Just one more thing.

Does this mean anything to you?

No, it doesn't, but I wish it did.

Well, thanks for your help, Mr. Rosenfeld.

I'm sorry my mother wouldn't go out with you.

I'm sure she would've had a great time.

I would've tried to show her a good time.

I promised her that I'd never forget her and I never did.

Stanley Rosenfeld does not forget.

This is the street he walks down every day.

- When he needs inspiration... - Boy, you're really into this.

He is one of the great poets.

I think it's him.

He's writing.

Hello?

If you're selling Girl Scout cookies, I'm borderline diabetic.

You're Alfred Beidermeyer, aren't you?

You had to remind me?

- Are you writing a poem? - No, I'm writing the phone company...

...because they keep charging me for calls to Caracas, Venezuela.

Do you know anybody in Caracas, Venezuela?

No.

Neither do I.

"Ask not for whom the bell tolls."

Time for my medication and my nap.

- Here, we'll help you carry this stuff. - I can handle that.

Oh, thank you. I'm in the penthouse.

Penthouse A. It's there, over on the left.

If he has a heart attack, you're carrying the body down yourself.

- At least it gives you plenty of exercise. - It keeps me young.

- Where do you want this? - Just put it over there.

- Do you still teach? - No, no, no.

I gave it up 10 years ago.

Actually, it gave me up.

My mother took this course with you at UCLA.

"Foundations of Poetic Thought."

UCLA? My cardigan sweater period.

Her name was Maggie Muldovan.

Oh.

Remember her?

I've been blessed with a very bad memory.

People say she looked like me.

I was drinking a little in those days.

I'm drinking a little these days, too.

I'm sure she found your lectures fascinating.

Oh, I doubt it.

Writers are notoriously boring.

No, they're not.

I don't wanna be a writer.

I wanna be just like you.

Me?

My dear, this is not a country that rewards poetry.

This is a country that rewards gas mileage.

Besides, people don't read poetry anymore, they watch television.

Don't be a poet.

Be a TV repairman!

Vada, come on.

I've got a place I always go when I need cheering up.

The tar pits? This is where you come to get cheered up?

Look at it this way:

However bad I feel, it isn't as bad as becoming extinct...

...in a bottomless pit of tar.

And I thought I was weird.

You are weird.

Let's just go.

Oh, no. Wait. I like that you brought me here.

Hey, what do I care? I mean, consider the source:

A chick from Pennsylvania who wears a mood ring.

This isn't just a mood ring.

Does it work?

Well, it doesn't open cans or anything...

It's sort of a reminder of a friend of mine.

Boyfriend?

Well, he was a boy. He was my friend.

He was my best friend.

When we were kids we were gonna...

...move out here and live with the Brady Bunch.

Then, I lost this ring in the woods...

...and when he went to find it, he got stung by bees and he died.

Do you think your friend's up in heaven now...

...Looking down on you, and watching you all the time?

Well, I hope he's not watching me all the time.

Let me see if it changes colours on me.

Okay.

But be careful. It has a lot of sentimental value.

Maybe it'll fit my pinkie.

Well, don't force it. You'll break it.

I'm not gonna break it. I just wanna see it change colours.

I want it back now. I never should have taken it off.

- I want it back. - Hey, relax! I'm not gonna break it!

- Give it to me. - Come and get it.

- Just give it to me! - It's right here.

Just come and get it.

- Right here. - Don't! Come on.

Watch it.

Don't!

Uh-oh.

What do you mean, "uh-oh"?

I dropped it.

In the tar?

It was an accident. I'll get you a new one.

Where are you going?

Vada, wait up! Wait!

- What are you doing? You can't go in. - Oh, no?

- It's dangerous! - Leave me alone.

That ring is the only thing I have left of Thomas J. I have to get it.

You mean this ring?

You jerk! You idiot!

You hit pretty good, for a girl!

Nicholas!

What are you doing up?

I'm thirsty.

There's water in your bathroom.

I want juice.

- Don't wake up Vada. - I won't.

I think Maggie could've been a major player.

She had the talent.

God knows that face was made for close-ups.

And everything was magic with Maggie.

I remember we were walking down Hollywood Boulevard one night...

...and we put our feet in the stars' footprints.

You know, like tourists do? Maggie could not believe it.

Her feet were the same size as Judy Garland.

'Course, mine matched perfectly with Orson Welles.

Just kidding.

You should call Hillary Mitchell.

She and Maggie were very close.

She's got this funky little clothing store over here on Melrose.

I'd call her for you, but, well, we kinda had this thing...

...you know, and it got a little messy.

Thanks.

Would you know what this is?

Well, not really.

Could be the date of an opening, an audition, birthday?

Not my birthday. I don't know.

Who writes dates on paper bags?

My mum.

Whoa! I have got to get to dailies. I gotta break this up.

Well, thanks for your time. I know you're very busy.

You are Maggie all over again.

You let me know if you ever want to be a movie star.

You got the face for close-ups, too.

Thanks.

What a dufus.

We may go for coffee after the meeting, so don't expect us before midnight.

- There's fruit. - You know where the extinguisher is.

If the fruit bursts into flames, I'll be prepared.

You're so clever.

- Are you all right, honey? - I'm just tired.

Well, get to bed early and don't let anybody in.

- 'Bye. - Lock the door.

We have lift-off.

Joan Crawford! Oh, I love her.

There's the Marx Brothers!

- Carole Lombard! My dad's favourite. - Never heard of her.

Montgomery Clift! Wait till I tell Shelly.

Here's Judy Garland!

- My mother stood on this very spot. - I'm afraid your feet won't fit there.

That's 'cause I was cursed with the Sultenfuss bear claws.

- My hands fit. - Big deal.

What's he smoking?

What do you think?

Really?

Hey, look.

This is a totally barbaric custom.

So, if Phil marries my mum, she'd be your aunt, right?

Right.

And you'd be my cousin?

Yeah, I guess. Sort of.

But we wouldn't really be related, right?

Oh, no, we wouldn't be from the same bloodlines or anything.

We'd be like two total strangers who accidentally had relatives...

...who got married.

Good. I mean...

Marriage can really complicate things.

So, aren't you gonna say anything about my earrings?

I already did.

It's a totally barbaric custom.

But on you...

...it looks good.

- We should've called. - It's not that late.

You're grounded till you're 50.

- You're overreacting. - Make that 60.

And I'm docking your allowance for two weeks.

- Mum! - You think this is easy for me?

You go out and I get to be the bad guy.

I don't want you to be a delinquent...

...but I can't do my job if you don't do yours.

- It's not his fault. - No. It was me.

I'm sorry, Mum. Really.

Just tell me what to do. I'll do anything.

Go to your room.

And you.

Your father didn't give you permission to pierce your ears, did he?

Not exactly.

Well, just don't shave your legs.

He'll never let you visit us again if I send you home hairless and full of holes.

- Good morning. - Well, maybe for you.

- Is something wrong? - You're lucky...

...you deal with kids who are under anaesthesia.

Well, even without anaesthesia, I always tell my patients to...

...relax.

Isn't it time for your coffee break or something?

There must be someplace where we can go, talk.

Oh, no, I couldn't.

You couldn't?

Well, I'm sort of involved.

- Sort of? - Let's just say I'm involved.

Where I come from, involvement calls for...

...a substantial piece of jewellery.

Oh, well, I don't wear a lot of jewellery.

Alright, so you don't like jewellery, but you do like good music.

Liszt. One of my favourites.

Liszt was my parents' favourite. They were Hungarian.

Hungarians. Famous for their beautiful music...

...their beautiful women.

Doctor Helburn! What a surprise.

In the last couple of days, we've changed your oil, relined your brakes...

...balanced and rotated your tyres, aligned your front-end...

...and flushed out your entire cooling system.

I really didn't expect to be seeing you for another 3000 miles.

Well, what can I say, Phil? It's just I feel so welcome here.

And you are.

Why don't I come in the morning?

You can check out that left blinker for me.

Oh, sure. Okay.

I'll see you then. I look forward to it.

We really ought to flush out that line of bullshit he's got.

"Hungarians are famous for their beautiful women."

What's wrong with a little flattery? What's wrong with a little appreciation?

Are you saying I don't appreciate?

I'm saying he asked me out for coffee, like a real date.

When was the last time you did that?

What do you mean? We have a date every night.

No, that's not a date. A date is when I don't cook.

I do the dishes.

I'd go to a fortune teller, but they can only predict the future.

I need someone who can predict the past.

Hi. Can I help you?

Are you the Hillary Mitchell who went to school with Maggie Muldovan?

Maggie Muldovan?

Did you know her?

She's her daughter, Vada.

Of course!

Look at you.

It's the eyes mostly, and the hair, too.

And now she's gone.

She's gone.

She'll never get to see how well you've turned out.

Oh, my God!

Maggie!

You poor thing.

It's okay, really. I was just a baby.

I'm sorry. It's just...

...I've been taking all these seminars to get in touch with my feelings...

...and sometimes it gets outta hand.

Here.

Thank you. You're very sweet.

How did you find out where I was?

Peter Webb told us.

Peter?

You saw Peter?

Oh, God.

Forgive me. I'm making such a scene here.

- Why don't you have a seat? - Thanks.

I remember Maggie and your dad, too.

You know, we used to all pile into his old '54 Ford pickup.

"Chuck the truck" we used to call it.

It was pitch black with red leather interior.

Does he still drive that?

No, but sometimes he drives a hearse.

He's an undertaker.

You're kidding.

Jeffrey Pommeroy's an undertaker?

His name's Harry Sultenfuss.

What are you saying?

Look, I...

Are you saying my mum had another husband?

Honey, back then, people did crazy things.

They sure did!

They got kicked outta school, they married truck drivers.

These are my mother's greatest accomplishments?

I'm sure glad I came all the way out here to find them out.

Vada, wait up!

Just 'cause your mum was married before, doesn't mean anything.

Maybe not. But maybe it does.

If no one told me about this...

Maybe they're trying to hide something.

Like what?

Maybe this Jeffrey guy is my real father.

Look at me.

I have the hair of a dead person, and my nose...

No one in my family has this nose.

It could be the nose of a complete stranger.

I came out here to find out about my mother and I found...

God.

Don't cry.

Come on.

That lady in there looked pretty flaky to me.

How bout Phil? Maybe he knows something about all this.

At least you should talk to him before you get worked up.

Before I get worked up?

You don't think this is worked up?

That thing you said about your nose?

That it was a stranger's nose?

It's not. It's...

I mean...

It's yours.

Nick?

Yeah?

This has been a real confusing day.

How could Dad let me visit here and find out like this?

I'm gonna call him and make him tell me everything.

Sweetie, I...

Don't worry, I'll do it in my own subtle way.

Hello, Sultenfuss Parlour.

- Hi, Dad. - Hi, honey!

I just called to say that I'm having a really great time.

Good. You should go over and watch them tape Carson.

Actually, I wanna see Jeffrey Pommeroy.

Is he some kind of a new rock star or something?

Yeah.

Totally groovy, huh?

Totally.

Ask him if he needs a good tuba player.

I will.

How's Shelly?

She's fine.

The doctor just told her to stay in bed and get a little rest...

...and stay quiet just to make sure that...

Okay.

'Bye, Daddy. I love you.

- I love you too, sweetie pie. - My love to Shelly.

Shelly's sick.

I have to get to the bottom of this whole thing and get back there.

She'll be all right, baby.

Yeah. Right.

It's pointless to worry.

I'm not authorised to trace licenses for civilians.

His name is Jeffrey Pommeroy, and he used to drive a '54 Ford pickup.

Black with red interior.

Please?

Give us a break.

All you have to do is make a phone call.

I thought I told you to lose this guy.

Sergeant, I know I said some things last time that I shouldn't have said at all...

I think the phrase was "sleazoid geek."

I'm sorry, okay?

We gotta find this guy because he knew Vada's mum...

...and he could tell her stuff that no one else knows.

You're still asking me to break the law.

No, we're asking you to stand up with Maggie Muldovan...

...like you should've years ago.

Yeah, this is Sergeant Tanaka from Hollenbeck.

I need a current address for a Jeffrey...

Pommeroy.

Pommeroy.

He may or may not be driving a black '54 Ford pickup.

Monday.

I'm leaving Sunday.

Could you hold on for a second?

I can't get priority without a criminal charge.

Charge him with something. Who's gonna know?

Me! I'll know.

Do you wanna be a hall monitor all your life?

Hello.

I'm gonna need this right now.

This guy.

We think he might be going after the governor.

Twenty minutes? Fine.

Give him a call.

The worst he can do is hang up on you, right?

I feel like before I can talk to him, I have to see his face.

How's this for a solution?

We'll take a drive over to his place. You can introduce yourself...

I'd like to see his house, but...

...I don't know if I'd have the nerve to just go up and knock on his door.

I don't think I could go through with it.

Then we'll keep driving.

You'll decide.

You're awfully quiet.

Do you think I should tell my dad about Jeffrey Pommeroy?

I don't know. He's got an awful lot on his mind right now.

Maybe some day when the time is right.

Maybe.

Then again, your dad's got his own memories...

...and he's got his own life now.

I think this is a secret, just between you and your mum.

A secret? I like that.

This is it, I guess.

Well, we've come this far, the least I can do is knock on the door.

Want me to come with?

I should do this myself.

Okay. Take your time.

I'll go for a walk around.

Go ahead, honey. Go ahead.

Hi there.

Can I help you?

Are you Jeffrey Pommeroy?

I sure am. Who are you?

I'm Vada Margaret Sultenfuss.

- And my mother was... - Maggie.

Maggie's little girl.

I was hoping I'd get to meet you.

You mean you knew about me?

Who is it, honey?

It's Maggie's little girl, Vada.

Oh. Oh, my.

- This is my wife, Emily. - Hi.

Hi.

Can you come in for a minute?

I'd like to. Thanks.

Mummy! Daddy!

I painted you a rainbow. Come and see!

This is Vada.

Vada, this our little girl, Katie.

- Hi. - Hi.

Why don't we let Daddy and Vada visit for a little while, okay?

- Okay. - Okay.

- 'Bye. - 'Bye.

She looks a little like me when I was a little girl.

Does she?

I'm glad you're here.

You are?

Yeah. Come on, let's talk.

We had an assignment to write about someone we've never met...

...and I chose my mother.

She was born in LA, and since my Uncle Phil moved out here...

...I came to visit him. Then I looked in her high school yearbook...

...and I called a few people. One guy said that she went to UCLA.

Another guy said I should call Hillary Mitchell...

Hillary Mitchell? How's she?

She's great.

She's a little crazy, though.

Hillary said that you had a black Ford truck...

...and this policeman I know got in touch with Motor Vehicles...

...and he gave me your address and here I am.

I told you it was a long story.

That's all right. You know, you sounded just like your mother.

She told great stories.

Stories with crazy accents and special effects.

Special effects?

Like switching the lamp on and off when she was talking about lightning.

Audiences love stuff like that.

And your mum knew how to work an audience.

I don't know very much about her.

I was hoping that you could help me.

I'll try.

No one else knows what this means.

The thing is we always wanted to work in the theatre.

We drove out to New York, to Broadway...

...where it was all happening.

And New York was just full of fancy French restaurants...

...and we wanted to get married in one.

But we were totally broke.

Your mum found this little coffee shop with tables around the back...

...and real tablecloths on 'em, and a minister who worked cheap.

When we got down to the coffee shop...

...there was a sign on the door that said, "Closed by the Board of Health."

By that time, it had started snowing...

...so we just got married right outside in the snow.

It was freezing.

But it was wonderful.

And for our wedding feast, we had a bag of hot-roasted chestnuts.

This is the bag.

And she saved it.

We didn't have a camera.

So she just wrote the date on the bag and said:

"This'll be our wedding album. This'll be a day we'll never forget."

We never did.

Do you have any pictures of her?

I've got something better.

We called ourselves "The Appearing Nightly Players."

Darling! Where is my chauffeur?

You don't want I should walk to the stage?

An actress of my overwhelming talent!

She's beautiful.

We performed on the beach one summer.

Everything went wrong.

- Come on, send me away happy. - Send him away!

- That was beautiful. - Thank you.

- You do it all the time. That was beautiful. - Thank you.

She had a beautiful voice.

Would you like to have these movies?

More than anything in the world.

It's good to see Maggie again and you.

Didn't you ever wonder about me?

Well, I didn't know about you until after she was gone.

I thought that maybe you'd be curious about how I turned out.

I'd say you turned out just fine.

I guess what I mean is, my mother married my dad after you.

And then I was born, so I thought that maybe you got divorced because of me.

Wait a minute.

Do you think I'm your father?

Honey, I'd be proud to be your father, really.

It just isn't so.

Come on.

Maggie wanted to have a baby.

And I didn't.

She didn't want to miss out on anything, especially motherhood.

It got to be a real problem with us.

I thought she had plenty of time.

She didn't.

Anyway, that's why I was grateful when she met your father.

He had the sense to love her the way she deserved.

Most of all, I was glad that she had you.

The baby she always wanted.

I want you to know that.

I'm gonna use the movies when I give my report.

Jeffrey says audiences love special effects.

You better ace it. You sacrificed our whole vacation.

It's a wonderful story with a very happy ending.

Sorry, Doc. We close for business at 3:00 tonight.

This isn't business.

I found this wonderful little Hungarian restaurant...

...that makes its own strudel.

I thought you might like a taste of the old country.

See, there's apple in there and cherry.

And this is the cheese, but I gotta say, I think the cherry is really...

Okay, that does it. That does it. The strudel does it.

- First it's the brakes, then... - Wait a minute.

I'm not letting a podiatrist with a Jaguar full of strudel come waltzing in here and...

I'm not a podiatrist. I'm a cardiologist.

Who cares?

Rose, tell him we have an arrangement.

What kind of arrangement?

Yes, what kind of arrangement?

I'd be very interested to know what kind of arrangement we have.

You know exactly what kind it is.

Come on, Rose.

What do you want from me?

I don't want anything you don't wanna give me.

Don't settle for any less than you deserve.

You stay out of this!

If I had a red XK-150 with a black interior, I wouldn't be offering relationship advice.

The interior's colour isn't germane...

- Rose, this isn't the place to have this... - I think this place is just fine.

You know how I feel about you.

You like the way I cook? You think I make out a great invoice?

You and Nick and this garage are my whole life.

I love you.

Sure, you don't have the greatest taste in music, but...

...there's not another woman who could look so sexy in that smock.

What I'm trying to...

What I mean to say...

Rose, will you marry me?

You really think I look sexy in this smock?

Is that a "yes"?

- Thanks for everything. You're the best. - No, you're the best.

I don't want you talking to anybody on the plane.

Dad already gave me this lecture.

He'll meet me at the airport, we'll have some pizza...

...then we'll have dinner in bed with Shelly.

Sounds great. You give them both one of these for me.

'Bye, "Aunt" Rose.

'Bye, "Niece" Vada.

Thanks.

Well, 'bye.

Listen.

I'm sorry you had to sacrifice your entire vacation.

Some sacrifices are worth it.

You mean it wasn't that terrible?

I wouldn't say it was terrible.

It was kind of...

An adventure?

Part adventure...

...part miracle.

Will you write me a poem?

No?

I'll write you 10 poems.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is your final boarding call for flight 6-2-8...

- 'Bye. - 'Bye.

Look in your backpack.

Okay.

"In memory of barbaric customs. Love, Nick."

Life is full of barbaric customs.

I just hope they all end with a kiss like that.

- Arthur! Where's my dad? - He took Shelly to the hospital.

- Is she okay? - She was making a lot of noise.

Dad!

- What happened to Shelly? - She just had a baby, that's all.

We have a baby?

A boy. You've got a new brother.

- Can I see him? - You can do anything you want.

You're his sister.

What's on your ear?

Shelly?

Look.

- He's so tiny. - I know. Look at his little hands.

- I'm sorry I couldn't come pick you up. - I was pushing as fast as I could.

Did it hurt a lot?

You have no idea.

- Here, let me hold him. - Okay.

- Got his head? - Yeah.

Okay.

- You like that. - Yes.

Maybe he's wet.

Maybe he's hungry.

He's okay.

You just have to sing to him.

Things haven't exactly calmed down around here.

I got an A-plus on the report.

Dad's getting used to my pierced ears, and Nick's coming to visit this summer.

Other than that, I'm busy being a big sister.

I like to tell my brother about my mum...

... how I got to meet her friends, and find out how special she was.

She may not have her footprints in cement...

... but she definitely left her imprint on the world.

And I told him that, even though it sounds conceited...

... her greatest achievement was me.