Five @ Fifty

by Brad Fraser

  Sorry about the cigarette thing.

  OLIVIA: You’re absolutely right of course. If I have the willpower to quit drinking and overeating I should have the willpower to quit smoking.

  NORMA: Nothing says you have to be perfect.

  OLIVIA: Norma that thing we were talking about before everyone arrived.

  NORMA: Yes?

  OLIVIA: All these new feelings and sensations. It’s really hard to tell what’s real and what’s just novelty you know.

  Pause.

  NORMA: Is there someone you’re attracted to?

  OLIVIA: At the meetings.

  NORMA: Who?

  OLIVIA: Just this guy.

  Pause.

  We’ve never done anything but shake hands and chat. But he’s so nice to me and the way he smiles.

  NORMA: Stop. Please.

  OLIVIA: I’m sorry.

  NORMA: I can’t. I have to. Jesus.

  NORMA sits.

  OLIVIA: I love you. You know I love you. But things I thought I thought I think maybe I don’t think them anymore and I don’t get it.

  NORMA: I’ve supported you. I’ve put up with—with—everything.

  OLIVIA: Nothing happened okay. I just—I felt I should tell you.

  NORMA: Why?

  OLIVIA: You’re my partner.

  NORMA: All I can think of is that weird phone call I got from your mom just after you moved in here—with her sobbing and saying Olivia promised she’d stay with me forever.

  OLIVIA: She was senile and in an extended care home. I made a promise to you. You made one to me.

  NORMA: What am I supposed to say?

  OLIVIA: Say it’s alright. Say you understand.

  NORMA: You’re not the person I’ve been waking up with for all these years.

  OLIVIA: It’s like every minute of my life I’m trying to stay positive and strong and the whole time this thing inside of me is saying just have a fucking drink.

  NORMA: I know.

  OLIVIA: I see that cooler sitting there and I can practically taste it.

  NORMA: I know.

  OLIVIA: It takes every ounce of my willpower not to finish it.

  NORMA: I know.

  OLIVIA: I can give up booze and I can give up cigarettes but I can’t give up Norma after thirty odd years. I can’t.

  NORMA: And I can’t give up Olivia.

  OLIVIA: But I don’t want to fail.

  NORMA: I know.

  OLIVIA: Because if I do everything will just go back to the way it was before.

  NORMA: I know.

  Long pause.

  You know I’ve always loved you no matter what.

  OLIVIA: I do.

  NORMA: And I always will. No matter what.

  OLIVIA: I can smell the vodka under the lemon.

  NORMA: Nothing can take my love away.

  OLIVIA: I think I’m cured. I really do. I think I could have just one or two drinks and stop. Like a normal person.

  NORMA: Really?

  OLIVIA: Absolutely. The program’s really helped me.

  OLIVIA moves into NORMA’s arms.

  NORMA: You’ve been a very good girl.

  OLIVIA: It’s just the end of a cooler.

  NORMA: And then we’ll go to bed. No one will ever know.

  NORMA picks up the cooler.

  OLIVIA: Just one drink.

  NORMA: You’re strong.

  OLIVIA: Norma.

  NORMA: It’s okay.

  NORMA gives OLIVIA a long drink from the bottle, like a baby.

  OLIVIA: I love you.

  NORMA: I love you too.

  OLIVIA drinks greedily as a light rises on FERN.

  FERN: He cried when I told him. The tears were pretty hard to take. And he’s such a wonderful guy. But I told him I have a family. They have to come first. What we’ve been doing these last thirteen years is wrong and it’s going to stop now. He said he loved me. I said I didn’t care. We didn’t kiss or touch. He nodded and I walked away. And now it’s like this—endless tugging somewhere deep inside. Something that’s missing. This ache. It was only an hour twice a week but missing it makes me feel so fucking—empty. Walt’s even been concerned enough to ask if I’m depressed. That never happens. I never get depressed. Walt never notices. It’s like this craving.

  A light rises on LORENE setting a table at TRICIA’s home. TRICIA sits in a chair glaring at her.

  TRICIA: I don’t feel like a party.

  LORENE: Our birthdays are so close together. Two birds one stone.

  TRICIA: What’s to celebrate?

  LORENE: Fern’s always running the boys somewhere. Norma and Olivia never call. I’m working twice as hard for half the money. We need to do this.

  TRICIA: You need to do this.

  LORENE: You might be perfectly happy to turn fifty alone but I’m not.

  TRICIA: Because you haven’t found a new husband yet?

  LORENE: Don’t.

  TRICIA: Sorry. I’m.

  Pause.

  LORENE: I got a call from Diana right after the bottom fell out of the real estate market. She wanted to meet for a coffee. She’s getting married and planning on having children and felt it was important to know something about where she came from. I told her about my mother my grandparents—I wouldn’t say Diana was sympathetic exactly but she did seem to understand. She was so much like Mannie but her eyes were mine. And her mouth. It was so strange—seeing someone else with my smile.

  TRICIA: Did you bring any alcohol for this do?

  LORENE: Just pizza and pop.

  TRICIA: I have some bourbon in the pantry.

  LORENE: Do you want a drink? You seem a little moody.

  TRICIA: The paper killed my column last week.

  LORENE: What?

  TRICIA: They dumped a bunch of us old-timers.

  LORENE: You should’ve said something.

  TRICIA: If it was important someone would’ve noticed.

  LORENE: Did they offer you something online?

  TRICIA: Yeah for buttons but honestly the writing’s shit these days anyway. There’s something about being in constant pain that everyone finds boring. You want some?

  LORENE: Pour me a shot. Someone will snap you up.

  TRICIA: What dream world do you live in?

  LORENE: But you must have insurance or disability—

  TRICIA: Long-term freelancer. No benefits.

  LORENE: Savings?

  TRICIA: No.

  LORENE: I had no idea.

  TRICIA: Please don’t mention it to the others.

  LORENE: You know any one of us will help in any way—

  FERN enters.

  FERN: Happy birthday boiday girls.

  LORENE: Thanx.

  TRICIA: You look terrible.

  FERN: Why thank you.

  LORENE: Something to drink?

  FERN: Anything real.

  TRICIA: Bourbon.

  FERN: Oh yeah.

  TRICIA pours FERN a drink.

  TRICIA: Here you go.

  FERN: Thanx. Real quick before the lesbians arrive.

  LORENE: Have you spoken to them?

  FERN: Not for a few weeks. You?

  LORENE: No.

  FERN: Trish?

  TRICIA: No.

  LORENE: Maybe they’re not coming.

  TRICIA: Who cares?

  FERN: (raises her glass) To fifty. Again.

  LORENE: Cheers.

  TRICIA: Yeah.

  They all drink. Pause.

  Why do you keep touching your shoulder?

  FERN: I overextended a tendon and it’s still healing.

  TRICIA: You hurt yourself doing yoga?

  FERN: My doctor suggested I take a break for a while. Apparently I’m overdoing it.

  LORENE: What’s happening with Miles and the girlfriend?

  FERN: They’re—serious.

  TRICIA: How do you feel about that?

  FERN: In the end they do what they want to no matter what you say.

/>   NORMA enters.

  NORMA: Hey.

  LORENE: Where’s Olivia?

  NORMA: She’s got that flu bug.

  LORENE: Seems like we never hear from you girls anymore.

  NORMA: Life’s busy. How’s your back Tissue?

  TRICIA: Fine.

  LORENE: Hideous.

  NORMA: Did you speak to a surgeon?

  TRICIA: Yeah. Still fifty-fifty for crippled.

  LORENE: Isn’t it worth the risk?

  TRICIA: I don’t know.

  FERN: I really don’t like seeing you like this.

  TRICIA: Me either.

  LORENE: Also you’re a total bitch.

  TRICIA: I know.

  OLIVIA enters.

  OLIVIA: Why the fuck did you leave me at home?

  NORMA: You were sleeping.

  OLIVIA: You think I’d miss Tish and Lorene’s birthday? Fuck that.

  NORMA: Did you drive?

  OLIVIA: I do have a second set of keys.

  FERN: Olivia.

  TRICIA: Some flu.

  LORENE: You’re drunk.

  OLIVIA: I’m fine. I came to say happy boiday to my friends even though little miss control here left me asleep on the fucking couch. Is that such a crime?

  NORMA: Maybe you should—

  OLIVIA: How are you feeling Tissue? Back’s not bothering you too much is it?

  TRICIA: Actually it is.

  OLIVIA: What’s to drink? You’ve got booze right?

  LORENE: No.

  OLIVIA: I can smell it.

  NORMA: Let’s go back to the house.

  OLIVIA: Fuck off.

  LORENE: Olivia.

  OLIVIA: You have no right to judge me.

  LORENE: Liv stop.

  OLIVIA: Aha!

  OLIVIA spots the bottle and pours herself a drink.

  NORMA: Please.

  OLIVIA: Trish is higher than I am right now.

  TRICIA: I am in constant pain.

  OLIVIA: So am I. Where’s the cake? We’re having cake right? Cake and bourbon. Love it.

  FERN: You were doing so well.

  OLIVIA: Everyone relapses. It’s to be expected.

  FERN: Livy.

  OLIVIA: At least I’m not fucking around on my husband.

  LORENE: What?

  FERN: You told her?

  OLIVIA: She’s been fucking the artist next door for like thirty years or something.

  TRICIA: Seriously?

  FERN: You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone.

  OLIVIA: She has to tell me everything. I’m her wife. Where’s the goddamn cake.

  NORMA: We should just go home.

  OLIVIA: When I found out even Fern couldn’t keep her marriage vows I just had to have a drink. Why stay sober if everything’s a lie right?

  FERN: What’s a lie?

  OLIVIA: Your perfect fucking marriage.

  TRICIA: Barry?

  LORENE: With the nice legs?

  FERN takes the bottle from OLIVIA and refills her glass.

  FERN: Yes I had an affair. It’s over now.

  LORENE: Did you tell Walt?

  FERN: A few nights ago I’d resolved to say something—we were lying in bed—both of us pretending to be asleep when he said he’d been having sex with his executive assistant for the last five years—

  TRICIA: Damn.

  FERN: Confessed to the whole messy thing—how young she was—how needy she became—how hard it was for him to get out of it.

  TRICIA: Poor dear.

  FERN: He was so sad. He didn’t love her. She’s gone. He’ll never see her again.

  OLIVIA: So you naturally told him about wiener boy next door.

  FERN: No.

  LORENE: Really?

  FERN: If I’d confessed that I’d done the same thing with Barry it would’ve—I don’t know—made it about me. And I knew deep down this whole thing was about him wanting something—anything—to be about him and not me or the boys or the house or his career or whatever.

  NORMA: So what did you do?

  FERN: I held him until he fell asleep. And we never talked about it again.

  Pause. OLIVIA pours herself another drink.

  OLIVIA: Where’s the cake?

  LORENE: We were gonna warm up a couple pizzas.

  TRICIA: I’m not hungry.

  OLIVIA: I’m starving.

  NORMA: Let’s just go.

  NORMA grabs OLIVIA. OLIVIA pulls away.

  TRICIA: Norma.

  NORMA: I’m just getting her out of here.

  LORENE: Do you have to be so rough?

  OLIVIA: She’s the one who got me drinking again.

  FERN: What?

  OLIVIA: Practically poured that cooler down my throat.

  NORMA: She said she could handle a drink.

  OLIVIA: She likes me when I’m drunk. So she can rub herself all over me.

  NORMA: Olivia.

  OLIVIA: And I can pretend I like it. Just like the bottom did with Lorene.

  LORENE: Time to shut this party down.

  NORMA: Definitely.

  OLIVIA: She buys my booze.

  NORMA: Olivia we’re leaving.

  OLIVIA: Still drinking.

  TRICIA: You know what a codependent enabler is.

  NORMA: Okay. I love an alcoholic.

  TRICIA: Why are you killing her?

  OLIVIA: I’m great. Don’t worry about me.

  TRICIA: First do no harm? Isn’t that the oath you took?

  NORMA: We’re leaving.

  OLIVIA: No I’m—

  NORMA grabs OLIVIA roughly and hustles her out of the house.

  NORMA: Right fucking now!

  OLIVIA: Hey.

  NORMA drags OLIVIA out of the house.

  NORMA: Don’t call us again. Any of you.

  OLIVIA: Terrible party.

  They exit. Long pause.

  TRICIA: You should both go now.

  FERN: We can still celebrate—

  TRICIA: Our failing bodies? Our sham marriages? Our abandoned children?

  FERN: My marriage is not a sham.

  TRICIA: Well it’s not the fabulous success you always pretended it was.

  FERN: It’s still better than anything either of you have achieved.

  LORENE: Because you made it last longer by lying?

  FERN: I didn’t give up my kids.

  LORENE: Shut up.

  TRICIA: You’re both fucking mothers of the year.

  LORENE: At least we didn’t abort our children.

  TRICIA: Fuck you.

  FERN: You’re a bitter cripple.

  TRICIA: You’re a lying middle-class bitch.

  LORENE: Just stop.

  TRICIA: I don’t need any of this shit. I never wanted this party in the first place. So how about you both fuck off right now?

  FERN and LORENE exit. TRICIA pours herself another drink and downs it. Lights rise on NORMA watching television. OLIVIA sits next to her drinking.

  OLIVIA: She’s fat.

  NORMA: What?

  OLIVIA: That actress. She’s put on weight.

  NORMA: Has she?

  OLIVIA: I hate this big flat TV. It makes everyone so real.

  NORMA: It’s fine.

  OLIVIA: Let’s watch something else.

  NORMA: No.

  OLIVIA pours herself another drink, spilling some.

  OLIVIA: Aren’t you going to clean that up?

  NORMA: No.

  OLIVIA: Why not?

  NORMA: Because I don’t want to.

  OLIVIA: Well I’m not cleaning it up.

  Pause.

  Why’s she wearing that dress?

  NORMA: Because it’s her husband’s favourite and she’s planning to kill him.

  OLIVIA: He should kill her for being so fat and having such bad skin.

  NORMA: Stop.

  OLIVIA: But wouldn’t you agree she’s fat. Like fatter than anyone.

  NORMA: Sure.

  Pause.

  OLIVIA: You wanna drink?


  NORMA: I’m trying to watch TV.

  OLIVIA: I’m bored.

  NORMA: Go to bed.

  OLIVIA: That just makes me more bored.

  NORMA: Then watch the show.

  OLIVIA: She’s fat.

  NORMA sighs.

  I’m outta vodka.

  NORMA: There’s some Tia Maria in the cupboard.

  OLIVIA: I hate Tia Maria.

  NORMA: It’s all we’ve got.

  OLIVIA: Go to the store and get me some more.

  NORMA: No.

  Pause.

  OLIVIA: You need to go get me more vodka.

  NORMA: No.

  OLIVIA rises to exit.

  OLIVIA: I’ll go myself.

  NORMA: Don’t take the car.