A Morning After

Thursday, November 8, 1990

SCENE: Morning at the Honeymoon Cottage. From the terrace—sunlight and the ocean . . .

ROGER sneaks in with a breakfast tray on which also sits a huge vase of tropical flowers. He sees HOLLY still sleeping, so he tries to close the door quietly. However, ROGER’S hands are too full, and the bedroom door shuts heavily. ROGER cringes.

In bed, HOLLY turns a bit, slowly waking up. She is serene, content.

HOLLY [drowsily, peacefully, half-sitting]: What’s . . . What’s going on?

ROGER [smiling]: You spoiled it.

HOLLY: What?

ROGER [bringing the tray to her]: Breakfast in bed!

HOLLY: You did all this?

ROGER: Well, actually, the cook wouldn’t let me within fifty feet of the kitchen, which as you may recall is just as well. But, I did pick the flowers! There’s a field of them out behind the barn. Smell ‘em. Nice, huh?

HOLLY leans forward and smells.

HOLLY: Ummm! [Then, smiling at ROGER] This isn’t the Roger Thorpe I know.

ROGER [smiling]: No, it’s not.

ROGER pours coffee while HOLLY, still in bed in a pretty white negligee, eats breakfast.

ROGER: I don’t know. I think it’s something in the water. Every thing feels different today. You take yours black, right?

HOLLY: Yeah. Thanks. What have you got on?

ROGER: Oh, uh. The cook lent these to me. I . . . well, I took a long walk this morning.

HOLLY: You’ve got energy. I was exhausted.

ROGER: Oh, so was I, but I couldn’t sleep on that lumpy couch. Not that I’m complaining! [They grin at each other]. When is the last time you took a walk without having any destination?

HOLLY: Can’t remember. How long were you gone?

ROGER: I don’t know. It seems like a long time, because . . . look, I happened on this amazing, crystal clear little stream right at daybreak, and it was like a postcard, you know. And I felt like I could look at it—but it’s like I felt it was a postcard, you know, because I couldn’t be a part of it. I just felt so shut off. Am I making any sense?

HOLLY: I know the feeling.

ROGER: Anyway, I stood there, looking at this for the longest time. You know, just watching how the light played on the water, and uh, watching all the tiny little movements. [He sits beside HOLLY on the bed.] And then, I realized that this stream was just teeming with fish. And I decided right then and there we were going to have fresh fish for breakfast. So, there were so many of them, I just reached in

HOLLY [amused, but skeptical]: There are no fish on this tray.

ROGER: Yeah, well, you’re missing the point. I reached in my hand . . .

HOLLY: What happened to your clothes?

ROGER: Um . . . They’re drying. See, bears . . .

HOLLY: You didn’t think to roll up your pant legs?

ROGER [admitting it]: I fell in. I figured . .

HOLLY laughs.

ROGER: Will you stop concentrating on the fish! Just picture the setting—I mean--

HOLLY: No, I'm picturing this. The great big bad Roger Thorpe, humbled by a trout.

ROGER thinks about this for a moment. HOLLY laughs.

HOLLY: What’s the matter? Can’t you take it? You’re so bad!

ROGER [laughs, touches her hair playfully]: Ah, you’re so good! [then, he pauses] I know what’s different today. I’m happy.

The breakfast tray is almost empty, and ROGER has stepped out of the room for a minute. HOLLY, fully dressed in a green blouse and rust-colored slacks, picks up a glass of orange juice and looks out at the ocean, pleased at what she sees.

HOLLY: Oh! . . . Now, whatever happened to Perkins?

She picks up the phone.

HOLLY: Yes, this is Ms. Lindsey. If I get a call from a Mr. Perkins, would you tell him that . . .uh . . the job’s been cancelled. He’ll never understand, but ... [she laughs].

HOLLY hangs up the phone as ROGER comes in triumphantly with his real clothes in hand.

HOLLY: Clothes are dry, I see.

ROGER: The timing couldn’t have been better.

HOLLY: Do you think we’ll make it by eleven?

ROGER: The village is just a ten-minute walk from here.

HOLLY: The village? Where’s the meeting?

ROGER cannot comprehend this.

HOLLY: Spinner? The buyer? The Love Bug?

ROGER: Oh, my gosh. I’d forgotten all about it.

HOLLY: What were you talking about?

ROGER: Oh, the cook told me that this is a major holiday, and they just shut down, totally shut down, the entire town, and everybody gathers in the plaza for a lot of music, dancing . . They roast a pig . . .

HOLLY [astonished and tickled]: What?

ROGER: I can’t believe it. Yeah, I know he was supposed to get back to us today, but--SO WHAT? It’s a holiday. We’ll call him; he’ll still be there tomorrow. Let’s take time out. I mean—life is too short! I can’t believe I just said that.

HOLLY: Well, what about our syndication deal?

ROGER: Oh . . . If he likes it today, he’ll take it tomorrow. But it’s your baby—whatever you say.

HOLLY: What’s happening with you?

ROGER: I don’t know. I feel good. I feel really good, and I just want to go with it, you know? I mean, I can’t remember the last time I went fishing. I can’t remember the last time I walked out of the house without a tie on! I just don’t want to sell, or buy, or option, or lease anything for one whole day! I just want to . . . I want to . . . drink this glass of O.J.!

ROGER polishes off a glass.

ROGER: That is the best OJ I’ve ever tasted. I can’t remember when I ever tasted O.J. before. I think Spinner can wait.

HOLLY [smiling, laughing]: I agree. All right.

ROGER and HOLLY high-five.

HOLLY: But there’s something that can’t, that we’ve forgotten all about. We’ve got to call home.

ROGER’S face falls.

HOLLY: I mean, the last few days have been crazy. We just kinda got lost in our own little world.

ROGER: Don’t dismiss what happened too lightly.

HOLLY: I don’t. But it wouldn’t be fair to let them worry.

ROGER: No . . . As far as Ross knows, you’re down here alone, pitching the show at the convention.

HOLLY: But what if Alexandra calls the hotel trying to reach you and finds we’ve checked out? You don’t want to put her through that.

ROGER: No.

HOLLY: And I don’t want to do that to Ross. I’m sorry to put a damper on your spontaneity. [HOLLY smiles at ROGER.]

ROGER: No, no. You’re right, of course. But look, would you just walk down to the plaza with me? It is so beautiful. You’re really going to love it. Ross is probably just getting to the office, no. Alex is on her second cup of coffee, catching up on the latest gossip with Vera.

ROGER: It would be nice, though, to make the gesture to Alexandra. You know, little things can mean so much. She loves you so much, and you obviously love her, too.

The band strikes up, and HOLLY steps to the terrace, laughing. It’s impossible for her to hear anything but the brassy music, so she doesn’t hear ROGER, still inside the bedroom, say aloud:

"It’s not because of Alex that I didn’t make love to you, Holly. It’s because of you."

The band gets louder, and HOLLY comes back in the room, still laughing.

ROGER: It’s started—what can I tell you!

HOLLY: I can’t hear anything you’re saying!

ROGER yells in HOLLY’S ear: I said, "Communication at this point is going to be kinda problematic!"

HOLLY [Giddy, mocking]: Yeah?

ROGER: You can’t hear me! Now, c’mon!

ROGER and HOLLY dance, totally joyous, loudly spouting bits of Spanish and nonsense syllables. HOLLY jumps up on the trunk as she dances, and ROGER looks up at her.

ROGER: Ah, Senorita! You’re so beautiful!

HOLLY: Oh, Senor!

ROGER picks HOLLY up in his arms and spins around. They are still yelling, laughing, and dancing as ALEXANDRA and ROSS enter the room, each wearing their "We are not amused" expression. ROGER and HOLLY stop mid-dance. HOLLY, particularly, looks "caught".

Next Scene:
Caught In The Act