Authors: Tracy Letts

August: Osage County (10 page)

BOOK: August: Osage County

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KAREN: The present. Today, here and now. I think I spent so much of my early life thinking about what’s to come, y’know, who would I marry, would he be a lawyer or a football player, would he be dark-haired and good-looking and broad-shouldered. I spent a lot of time in that bedroom upstairs pretending my pillow was my husband and I’d ask him about his day at work and what was happening at the office, and did he like the dinner I made for him and where were we going to vacation that winter and he’d surprise me with tickets to Belize and we’d kiss—I mean I’d kiss my pillow, make out with my pillow, and then I’d tell him I’d been to the doctor that day and I’d found out I was pregnant. I know how pathetic all that sounds now, but it was innocent enough . . .

Then real life takes over because it always does—

BARBARA:—uh-huh—

KAREN:—and things work out differently than you’d planned. That pillow was a better husband than any real man I’d ever met; this parade of men fails to live up to your expectations, all of them so much less than Daddy or Bill (you know I always envied you finding Bill). And you punish yourself, tell yourself it’s your fault you can’t find a good one, you’ve only deluded yourself into thinking they’re better than they are. I don’t know how well you remember Andrew . . .

BARBARA: No, I remember.

KAREN: That’s the best example: here’s a guy I loved so intensely, and all the things he did wrong were just opportunities for me to make things right. So if he cheated on me or he called me a cunt, I’d think to myself, “No, you love him, you love him forever, and here’s an opportunity to make an adjustment in the way you view the world.” And I can’t say when the precise moment was that I looked in the mirror and said, “Okay, moron,” and walked out, but it kicked off this whole period of reflection, just swamped in this sticky recollection. How had I screwed it up, where’d I go wrong, and before you know it you can’t move forward, you’re just suspended there, you can’t move forward because you can’t stop thinking backward, I mean, you know . . . years! Years of punishment, self-loathing. And that’s when I got into all those books and discussion groups—

BARBARA: And Scientology, too, right, or something like that?—

KAREN: Yes, exactly, and finally one day, I threw it all out, I just said, “No, it’s
me
. It’s just
me
, here and now, with my music on the stereo and my glass of wine and Bloomers my cat, and I don’t need anything else, I can live my life with myself.” And I got my license, threw myself into my work, sold a lot of houses, and that’s when I met Steve. That’s how it happens, of course, you only really find it when you’re not looking for it, suddenly you turn around and there it is. And then the things you thought were so important aren’t really important. I mean, when I made out with my pillow, I never imagined Steve! Here he is, you know, this kinda country club Chamber of Commerce guy, ten years older than me, but a thinker, you know, someone who’s been around, and he’s just so good. He’s a good man and he’s good to me and he’s good
for
me.

BARBARA: That’s great, Karen—

KAREN: He’s got this great business and it’s because he has these great ideas and he’s unafraid to make his ideas realities, you know, he’s not afraid of
doing
. I think men on the whole are better at that than women, don’t you?
Doing
, just jumping in and
doing
, right or wrong, we’ll figure out what it all means later. And the best thing about him, the best thing about him for me, is that now what I think about is
now
. I live
now
. My focus, my life, my world is
now
. I don’t give a care about the past anymore, the mistakes I made, the way I
thought
, I won’t go back there. And I’ve realized you can’t plan the future, because as soon as you do, you know, something happens, some terrible thing happens—

BARBARA: Like your father drowning himself.

KAREN: Exactly! Exactly, that’s exactly what I mean! That’s not something you plan for! There’s no contingency; you take it as it comes, here and now! Steve had a very important presentation today, for some bigwig government guys who could be very important for his business, something he’s been putting together for months, and as soon as we heard about Daddy, he called and canceled his meeting. He has his priorities straight. And you know what the kicker is?

(Barbara waits.)

Do you know what the kicker is?

BARBARA: What’s the kicker?

KAREN: We’re going to Belize on our honeymoon.

(Johnna enters from the kitchen, bringing in a pitcher of iced tea.)

BARBARA: Sorry. Hot flash.

KAREN: I never told him my little Belize fantasy, he just up and surprised me with tickets for after the wedding.

BARBARA
(To Johnna)
: God, that smells good, what are we having?

JOHNNA: Um . . . baked chicken, fried potatoes, green bean casserole . . . some greens . . .

BARBARA: Did Mattie Fae bring her green bean casserole?

JOHNNA: Oh. I don’t know. Should I not have made it?

BARBARA: No, it’s good you did, hers is inedible.

(Johnna exits.)

KAREN: I mean, can you believe that about Belize?

BARBARA: That’s terrific.

KAREN: I know you only just met him, but did you get a read off him? Did you like him?

BARBARA: We said two words to each other—

KAREN: But you still get a feel, don’t you? Did you get a feel?

BARBARA: He seemed very nice, sweetheart—

KAREN: He
is
, and—

BARBARA:—but what I think about him doesn’t matter. I’m not marrying him—

KAREN: You’ll come to the wedding, won’t you?

BARBARA: Yeah, when is it again?

KAREN: New Year’s Day. One reason we chose New Year’s is because I know you and Bill have a break from school and it’s important to me that you’re there.

BARBARA: It’s in Sarasota?

KAREN: Miami. Didn’t you know I moved to Miami?

BARBARA: Wait, yes, I did know that—

KAREN: That’s where Steve’s business—

BARBARA:—right, right.

KAREN: I guess what I’m telling you is that I’m finally happy. I’ve been really unhappy for most of my life, my adult life. I doubt you’ve been aware of that. I know our lives have led us apart, you, me and Ivy, and maybe we’re not as close as we . . . as close as some families—

BARBARA: Yeah, we really need to talk about Mom, what to do about Mom—

KAREN:—but I think at least one reason for that is that I haven’t wanted to live my unhappiness in full view of my family. But now I’m . . . well, I’m just really happy. And I’d really like us to maybe get to know each other a little better.

BARBARA: Yes. Yes.

(Karen wraps her arms around Barbara.)

Okay. Yes.

(They separate.)

Christ, where are they with the wine already?

KAREN: And see, there’s another example, Steve doesn’t know a soul here, but he jumped right in the car with Bill and Jean to go get the wine. He’s family!

(Lights crossfade to the second-floor landing. Ivy enters, pursued by Violet, who carries a dress and a pair of high heels. Mattie Fae follows, rooting through a box of photographs.

Like Violet, Mattie Fae wears a black dress; Ivy wears a black suit. During the following, Barbara and Karen exit to the kitchen.)

IVY: I really don’t want to.

VIOLET: It won’t kill you to try it on—

MATTIE FAE
(Regarding photographs)
: Oh, this is a sweet one, Vi—

IVY: I find all this a tidge morbid, quite frankly—

MATTIE FAE:Look at this, Ivy—

VIOLET: What’s morbid about it?

IVY:—and I’m really not prepared to look at these photographs right now—

VIOLET: This is a beautiful dress and it’s very modern.

IVY: It’s not my style, Mom—

MATTIE FAE: Where was this taken?—

VIOLET: You don’t have a style, that’s the whole point—

MATTIE FAE: Vi?

VIOLET
(Glancing at the photo)
: New York City. That’s from the first book tour, New York—

IVY: You mean I don’t have
your
style. I have a style of my own—

MATTIE FAE: “New York City, 1964”—

VIOLET: Honey, you wore a suit to your father’s funeral. A woman doesn’t wear a suit to a funeral—

IVY: God, you’re weird; it’s a black suit.

VIOLET: You look like a magician’s assistant.

IVY: You know—

MATTIE FAE: Little Charles has been talking about moving to New York.

IVY:—why do you feel it necessary to—?

MATTIE FAE: Can you picture that?

VIOLET: Don’t discourage him now—

MATTIE FAE: He wouldn’t last a day in that city. They’d tear him apart.

IVY: Why do you feel it—?

MATTIE FAE: I could kill that kid—

IVY: Why do you feel it necessary to insult me?

VIOLET: Stop being so sensitive.

MATTIE FAE: He overslept? For my brother-in-law’s funeral? A
noon
service?

IVY: I’m sure there’s more to the story than—

MATTIE FAE: You shouldn’t make excuses for him. That’s what Charlie does, has always done. Just, “Oh, he overslept, ladi-da, I’ll go pick him up at the bus station.”

IVY: You’re so hard on him.

MATTIE FAE: Boy’s thirty-seven years old and
can’t drive
?

VIOLET: He’s a little different, I’ll give you that.

IVY: I think you’re being—

MATTIE FAE: Who
can’t drive
?

IVY: I don’t think you’re very—

MATTIE FAE: I’ve seen a
chimp
drive.

VIOLET: Will you take off that cheap suit and try this on for me, please?

IVY: Cheap?! Did you call this—?!

MATTIE FAE: Is this the kind of thing you had in mind, Vi?

VIOLET: No, it’s to go on the sideboard for the meal, so it should be something we easily recognize—

MATTIE FAE: You mean something big.