Cliff House: "... To Bury The Hatchet, Honey"

January 27, 1993

SETTING: HOLLYBEND, late at night. HOLLY, in jeans and with messy hair, huddled on the sofa watching a sappy movie, suddenly hears “a tapping,/as of someone gently rapping.” HOLLY looks at the door, but refuses to answer, instead pulling her blanket closer. The knocking persists. It doesn’t even sound like normal knocking; it’s a steady tap-tap-tap. HOLLY finally opens the door to a sad-looking ROGER.

HOLLY [Querulous]: What do you want, Roger?

ROGER [Walking in past her]: I’ve come to bury the hatchet, honey.

ROGER, still in his overcoat, rummages through HOLLY’S kitchen.

ROGER: But where-oh-where is your corkscrew?

HOLLY [sourly]: I keep it by my bed, to ward off intruders.

ROGER: Is that supposed to be a hint?

HOLLY: If the shoe fits?

ROGER: Now, c’mon, Holly. . .

HOLLY: Roger, you are in my house, going through my things, without an invitation. I call that a major intrusion, wouldn’t you?

ROGER: I don’t think I interrupted anything especially exciting.

HOLLY: Well, not everybody needs the high life to enjoy themselves. I was very content before you arrived, and I could probably recapture the feeling if you leave—quickly, please. [She picks up the bottle he brought.] And as for the wine, I prefer white. [Putting it down and heading to the door]. If you’ve got to do something with that tonight, I could christen your car with it as you pull out. Now!

ROGER: Boy, Holly. You can be so ungracious sometimes. I came here to make peace with you; surely that is worth a moment of your time?

HOLLY: What, are we at war?

ROGER: I don’t know. Every day brings a new story. Friend or foe—I never know what it’s gonna be.

ROGER stands in the foreground, looking down rather vulnerably, as HOLLY responds.

HOLLY [Thoughtfully, but with a touch of her characteristic wry humor]: We’ve tried and tried to work things out; it never lasts. Maybe we just make better enemies than anything else—why don’t we just leave it at that?

ROGER [Turning to her, very vulnerable]: Because tonight I need a friend.

HOLLY seems to consider this possibility for a moment, and then turns her back to ROGER . . .

HOLLY: Are you drunk?

ROGER: I’m never drunk. I just get high enough to smile more easily.

HOLLY: Well, why aren’t you sharing this glow with Jenna? She probably finds it more fascinating than I do. [Turning to him] You’re still with her, aren’t you?

ROGER: You jealous?

HOLLY: Your ego still requires that of me, doesn’t it?

ROGER [With a faint smile]: Recently, you and I were contemplating ruling an empire together, do you recall?

HOLLY: I recall a business proposition, not a romantic liaison. Why don’t you go now?

ROGER comes closer to her.

ROGER: Holly, I’m really not trying to aggravate you. I really do need a friend tonight.

HOLLY [Turning to him, the words as though pulled out of her]: I am not your friend!

ROGER looks down and shakes his head slightly, a gesture of a forlorn man who has had a door slammed in his face. He turns away from her and walks a step before she says . . .

HOLLY: Oh, what’s happened to you tonight?

ROGER [Melancholic]: Well, it started paying a visit to Maureen’s grave. She’s the closest thing I had to a friend in this lousy town. And then Chrissy led me over to Ross—wanted me to “accept him.” And I found out that he is going to champion Spaulding in a lawsuit they don’t deserve to win, only because I’m on the other side of it.

HOLLY [Quietly]: With Jenna?

ROGER: Yes, she’s the wronged party. And then mad dog Lewis assaulted me—again! See, I don’t think sometimes it has anything to do with me. It’s like I represent something in themselves that they’re terrified of and they have to bludgeon out of existence.

HOLLY [Frustrated]: And you come to me for sympathy? Don’t you know that everything that has happened to you, everything that has happened to you, you brought it on yourself?!

HOLLY: I mean, do you really expect me to give you a shoulder to cry on, to tell you “Don’t worry, Roger, I know you’ve done nothing wrong”? [HOLLY is in his face, and he looks down. Somewhat more subdued, she says . . .] I’m sorry. I’m not Maureen Bauer. [ROGER nods, but her temper rises again]. And everybody who hates you has a damned good reason. Just look at what you’ve done to them! I mean, you have made it a mission in your life to try and sabotage Ross’s career. And what has gone on between you and the Spauldings, I . . . [HOLLY rolls her eyes, and ROGER looks down and shakes his head]. And don’t you remember—you nearly destroyed Billy Lewis when you used his daughter and then you threw it back in his face?

At this, ROGER looks up.

ROGER: I loved Melinda!

HOLLY: No, no! You don’t get to be the victim here! The victims are all those people you have hurt trying to get what you wanted!

ROGER [Moving closer to HOLLY]: Like you, Holly?

HOLLY: Yes! Like me! You’re damned straight!

ROGER looks at her, knowingly, and the ROGER-HOLLY “sexual tension” background music kicks in . . .

ROGER: But you don’t hate me, Holly. Why is that?

HOLLY appears vulnerable for a second, quickly glancing at ROGER’S lips and up into his eyes as they nearly fall into a kiss ...

... until she deftly pushes him away.

HOLLY [Opening the door to Hollybend] Go home now, Roger! Or I call the police!

ROGER steps into the darkness, and HOLLY follows as if to make one of her “comments”—she had a habit, in those days, of sending a parting shot to people as they left—but ROGER, with his back to her, asks a question.

ROGER: Do you hate me, Holly?

There is a pause. ROGER’S back is still to HOLLY.

HOLLY [Softly]: No. I used to, but I don’t anymore.

ROGER turns to her, and she looks gently into his eyes.

HOLLY: I pity you.

This cuts ROGER to his heart.

ROGER: Don’t! Don’t you ever do that! Don’t you ever feel sorry for me!

ROGER then adds, wryly: Oh well. I asked.

HOLLY, puzzled, watches him as he leaves.

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