Sweet Dreams

Friday, July 2, 1993 continued ...

Later . . .

ROGER: Ready for the grand finale?

HOLLY [leaning back on the chaise lounge, a bit drowsy]: I think so.

ROGER [to MICHELLE]: First mate?

MICHELLE [presenting a lighter]: Aye, aye, sir.

ROGER: Get set for blast-off?

MICHELLE: All systems go, sir!

ROGER [lights the rocket]: All right, here we go! A five, four, three, two, one, blast-off!!

All three cheer as the last and best of the fireworks explode in the sky.

ROGER: Oh, it’s still coming. I’ve got to give this a ten-plus—how bout you?

HOLLY: Yes!

MICHELLE: I hate it when they’re over. I wish we could do some more.

HOLLY [to ROGER as much as to MICHELLE]: Well, better to stop while you’re ahead. [to MICHELLE] Bedtime, besides.

MICHELLE: I’ve got to help Mr. Thorpe clean up first.

HOLLY: I’ll do that. You go wash up.

MICHELLE: Okay.

MICHELLE steps back inside CLIFF HOUSE, leaving ROGER and HOLLY alone.

ROGER: You’re not angry at me anymore?

HOLLY: No, it was a lot of fun.

ROGER: Me too. Most fun I’ve had in a long time.

HOLLY: Better get going—you’ve got a long drive ahead of you.

ROGER steps over to the table and turns on the tape player. A violin and piano introduction plays . . .

HOLLY: What’s that?

ROGER: One dance before I go?

HOLLY: Dance ... no.

ROGER: I’m not gonna bite you.

HOLLY: That’s not what I’m afraid of.

ROGER: What are you afraid of?

HOLLY [smiles a bit]: Nothing.

ROGER: Then, c’mon. It’s our nation’s birthday. And I happen to know how you feel about Aretha.

In the BACKGROUND, ARETHA FRANKLIN sings “Try a Little Tenderness”:

I may get weary . . . Women do get weary . . . Wearing the same shabby dress . . . But to one who’s weary, try a little . . . Try a little tenderness.

ROGER takes HOLLY’S hand and pulls her gently to him. She’s a little nervous, not quite knowing where to put her other hand, but she soon rests it lightly on ROGER’S shoulder.

They’re dancing, slowly . . . just looking at each other. Holly's eyes are teary.

CUT to DAVIS ripping out some of the wiring under the hood of ROGER’S car.

CUT back to HOLLY and ROGER dancing. After a moment, with the music still playing, they stop dancing, and ROGER leans forward as if to kiss HOLLY. Just as they are about to kiss . . .

I may be, I may be sentimental . . .

MICHELLE suddenly reappears, interrupting them.

MICHELLE: Holly?

...But I want to say . . . I’ve had my dreams . . . I’ve had my cares . . .

MICHELLE: I didn’t mean to bother you.

HOLLY, a little embarrassed, quickly turns the radio off. ROGER, on the other hand, seems as pleased as if he had actually gotten the kiss.

HOLLY: You . . . didn’t bother us.

MICHELLE: I couldn’t find the soap.

HOLLY: Look in my blue bag. There’s some in there. I’ll be right in. Why don’t you say goodnight to Mr. Thorpe—he’ll be leaving now.

MICHELLE: Oh, bye. Thanks for the great fireworks.

ROGER leans down and kisses MICHELLE on the cheek.

ROGER: Thank you. You were a spectacular audience. [As MICHELLE goes back in] Good night!

Now HOLLY and ROGER are alone again, with the table between them. Both are vulnerable.

ROGER: You’re not afraid of me, are you?

HOLLY: Maybe not so much fear, just common sense.

ROGER nods.

HOLLY: I mean, Jenna has got to be looking for you. She doesn’t strike me as the type to give up too easily.

ROGER [his eyes caressing her, he shakes his head]: I don’t want to talk about her now. [Looks at his watch] Ooh, look at the time. I had no idea. The nearest motel is probably an hour’s drive.

HOLLY: You can’t stay here.

ROGER: No, of course not. . . Thanks . . . for letting me spend the holiday with you and Michelle.

ROGER almost turns to go, but HOLLY can’t resist . . .

HOLLY: The best I can offer is a pillow if you want to sleep in your car.

ROGER [smiles]: That’ll be fine.

HOLLY: I’ll be right back.

ROGER looks into the ravine as HOLLY goes into the CLIFF HOUSE and returns with a pillow. She holds it against her like a shield, but she’s playful about it, just as ROGER is in accepting it.

HOLLY: Goodnight . . . Umm . . You’ll probably be gone before we get up so you can put the pillow on the deck.

ROGER: Sure. [tenderly] Well, sweet dreams, Holly.

HOLLY looks at ROGER for a moment, and then steps back into the CLIFF HOUSE and pulls the curtain over the sliding glass door.

ROGER [looking into the ravine, murmurs]: Sweet dreams.

CUT to DAVIS slamming shut the car hood.

DAVIS: Now you’re not going anywhere until I say so, Thorpe.

Back at the BAUER HOUSE, ED decides to join HOLLY and MICHELLE at CLIFF HOUSE. However, just before he can leave, a call from CEDARS sidetracks him.

Meanwhile, ROGER tries to sleep in the car. ROGER squirms, turns, and tosses the pillow to the floorboard. However, he cannot get comfortable.

As the wind blows around the CLIFF HOUSE, HOLLY and MICHELLE, in their nightclothes, prepare for bed. It’s a true “girls’ party,” in that HOLLY’S pajamas and robe are as thoroughly unsexy as MICHELLE’S granny gown. HOLLY lets out the hide-a-bed sofa for herself. MICHELLE is to sleep in the upstairs room. As they talk, HOLLY makes up her hide-a-bed.

MICHELLE: Do you think Mr. Thorpe will be okay sleeping in the car?

HOLLY [laughs]: Oh! I’m not gonna feel guilty about that. Etiquette does not require that you put somebody up when you didn’t invite them in the first place. Besides, this is our time together.

MICHELLE: Right. . . .[getting into the gossip] I don’t think Mr. Thorpe was heading someplace. I think he came all this way just to see you.

HOLLY sighs.

MICHELLE: He looks at you like he loves you. Maybe I’m not supposed to say that . . .

HOLLY [with a weary amusement]: Ummm. That’s all right. You know, it’s a very old and very complicated story that I’m just too tired to begin to explain to you. Goodnight, honey . . Goodnight kiss? [Kisses her].

MICHELLE [resigned to there being no more gossip]: Goodnight, Holly.

As MICHELLE goes upstairs, HOLLY sits on the bed and lets out a deep breath.

Loud steps are heard, and HOLLY turns off the light by her bed, startled. There is a knock at the door.

HOLLY [Irritated, mutters]: Roger, you can’t come in. [More knocks. She pulls back the curtain and opens the door simultaneously, without looking outside.] Just don’t wake Michelle.

Suddenly, a hand clasps over her mouth. It’s DAVIS, and he has a gun.

DAVIS: It’s not Roger, Holly.

Next:
It's Not Roger, Holly!