Written by Joe Janes
334 of 365
(Lights up on Ian and Meredith finishing a game of tennis with Roger and Mimzy. Ian jumps over the net and shakes hands with Roger.)
Shall we play another match?
Oh, I don’t know. What do you think, Mimzy?
Perhaps, later, Ian. Let’s sit and have some refreshments, first.
Sounds like a scrumptious idea.
It’s homemade lemonade. I had the caterer make it.
(They all sit and look at the pitcher of lemonade and glasses. They look around.)
Well, I suppose we could pour it ourselves.
You’ll do no such thing, Ian. You’re a guest in our modest mansion. (She looks around.) Roger, you serve.
Serve? I thought we decided against another round of tennis. (They all laugh, except Mimzy, until they don’t. Silence.) Seriously, Mimzy? Isn’t that something the hostess should do?
Oh, and I suppose you’d like me to push another baby out of my puffy vagina.
No, dear. I wouldn’t. I can’t afford another diamond necklace.
Chloe and Chad are such bright kids. Where are the little scamps?
The Filipino nanny took them to the park.
But you’re home.
I just get paid to birth them. She gets paid to raise them. Where is that caterer?
MEREDITH (picking up pitcher)
I’ll pour. I love lemonade.
Put it down, Meredith. … Down. (Meredith slowly puts the pitcher back down.) We’ll wait for the caterer to serve us. It’s what we paid for. Although I’ll be dammed if he gets a tip. (Beat. She takes out her cell phone.) That does it.
Who are you calling?
I’m calling Ricardo to complain and demand that he refund our two hundred dollars for the lemonade.
Two hundred dollars?
A can of Country Time is four bucks.
I don’t know what that is. (On phone) Hello? Ricardo? This is Mimzy Blake-Hanover… Well, I don’t know how the lemonade is. I wish I could tell you how the lemonade is. It looks refreshing. I’m sitting here staring at it watching the ice melt, reducing it to something sub refreshing. …I don’t know where Carl went. … Yes, you should have done this yourself. … I think as a repeat customer I deserve better service than this, don’t you? Am I supposed to pour it myself? … If you don’t want us to stop payment on this pitcher of lemonade and if you don’t want me to tell all my friends about my horrible, humiliating experience with your catering company, than I suggest you fire Carl and get your ass down here and start pouring us some lemonade… Thank you. (She hangs up. She smiles.) He’s on his way.
(They sit in silence for a moment. Carl enters wearing black pants and white tuxedo shirt with a bow tie.)
Are you finished? Would you like me to take that for you?
(They all stare at one another uncomfortably, except Mimzy, who is enjoying ignoring Carl.)
I’ll just be over here if you need me. (Carl steps off to the side. His cell phone rings. He discreetly checks the ID and picks up.) Ricardo?... I’m right here… I just asked if they needed anything and they didn’t say a word…Fired? I didn’t do anything… Ricardo, I need this job. I’m behind in my rent… I’m supposed to pour it, too? I didn’t know. It’s just a pitcher of lemonade… They were playing tennis. I went to the van to check on my daughter. …I can’t afford a babysitter. You knew that Ricardo. You said it would be okay. … Fine….Fine! I’ll turn in my bow tie. I’ll meet you at the van. (He hangs up. Ian, Roger and Meredith are looking over at him sympathetically. Mimzy has her back turned to him. He starts to leave but then walks over to the table. He sets four glasses in front of each person and pours them lemonade. When he is done, he stands for a moment waiting for everyone to try a sip, which they do.)
Worth the wait.
Just like homemade.
It’s Country Time. And tap water from your garden hose. Enjoy.
(Mimzy sits burning. Carl exits. Lights fade.)