Scene Three
Jamieās parentsā house in New Jersey. Cathy is offstage.
CATHY (Offstage): Thatās great!
JAMIE: I donāt know if itās great, itās something.
CATHY (Offstage): Is it health insurance?
(She enters, smiling broadly, with two cups of tea.)
JAMIE: No. Sadly no, no health insurance.
CATHY (Sympathetically): Oh.
JAMIE: Virtually none of these jobs come with health insurance.
CATHY: I know, honey, itās absolutely criminal. This is the kind of tea your father calls āsweepings from the forest floor,ā but I like it. It has . . . I forget what it has in it, but there are health benefits. Memory, maybe?
JAMIE: Ginkgo biloba?
CATHY: No, I take that in a pill, I donāt think theyāve figured out how to put it in tea yet. Go on, about the job.
JAMIE: Thatās pretty much it, itās a regular column, and Iāll get to contribute to some editorial decisions.
CATHY: So youāll be able to stop copyediting?
JAMIE (Brief pause): Well no, not completely.
CATHY: Oh honey, Iām asking all the wrong questions. Just ignore me, say what you were saying.
JAMIE: Thatās it, Iāve told you everything.
CATHY: Well the most important thing is being excited about your colleagues.
JAMIE: Theyāre awesome, Iām in great company.
CATHY: Iām going to look it up online as soon as you go and Iāll email you something very intelligent to make up for all my gaffes.
JAMIE: Itās fine, donāt worry about it.
CATHY: Itās just that youāre such a talented writer, and so much of what I readāthe New York Times, for crying out loudā
JAMIE: I know.
CATHY: That piece you wrote about the Sudanese family in Queens, Iām still hearing about it, from friends who say itās just stayed with them. You remember Josie Weltman?
JAMIE: Um . . .
CATHY: Sheās married to Anton in Dadās departmentāanyway, she thought it was just incredible and sheās a writer herself. I thought it was a shame that it wasnāt published somewhere more people would see it.
JAMIE: Itās okay, Mom, Iām doing okay.
CATHY: I know. Howās Paige?
JAMIE: Sheās fine.
CATHY: Howās Rufus?
(Brief pause.)
JAMIE: What?
CATHY: Howās Rufus?
JAMIE: Mom. Rufus died.
CATHY: . . . What?
JAMIE: Did I not tell you that?
CATHY: When?
JAMIE: Like . . . six months ago?
CATHY: Six months ago?
JAMIE: Are you sure I didnāt tell you that?
CATHY: What happened?
JAMIE: Weāre not sure, we think he ate poison. It happened pretty fast.
CATHY: Oh Rufus!
JAMIE: How is it possible I didnāt tell you that?
CATHY: I donāt know, Iām furious at you, frankly.
JAMIE: Sorry.
CATHY: Itās not like we havenāt talked.
JAMIE: No, I guess you didnāt ask / and Iā
CATHY: Well am I supposed to ask every time we talk, how is Rufus, is he dead? I trust you to tell me these things.
JAMIE: Iām really sorry, Mom.
CATHY: He was the last of a long line.
JAMIE: I know. He was a good little guy.
CATHY: He was.
(They both remember Rufus.)
So what made you come out here? Not that Iām not delighted, I am. Itās only an hour but we never see you.
JAMIE: You guys could ...