Tidy Endings (1988) - full transcript

Thou knowest, Lord,
the secrets of our heart,

shut not thy merciful ears unto our prayer.

But spare us, Lord most holy,
O God most mighty,

O holy and most merciful Saviour,
thou most worthy judge eternal,

For as much as it hath pleased
do mighty God,

of his great mercy to receive unto Himself
the soul of our dear brother here departed.

We therefore commit his body to the ground,
earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

Ensure and certain hope
of the resurrection to eternal life

through our Lord Jesus Christ,
who shall change our mortal body,

that it may be like unto his glorious
body, according to the mighty working

whereby he is able to subdue
all things to Himself.



Amen.

Marion wanted me to assure you all right.

Marion.

It really was a beautiful service.

You handled the whole thing
spectacularly, considering.

Thank you.

What did Arthur say?

He just wanted to go back to.
the apartment and be alone.

I think I should call him.

Why don't you just take care of
yourself for a change?

Tell you the truth.

I'm more surprised by how many people
did show up than by how many didn't.

My husband told me I was crazy.

All right.



Let's go back and see.

Marion.

Sorry, but you wouldn't believe the day
I'm having already two appointments downtown,

then you and I'm already late for court.

I can go back another time.

Oh, no, I've got it all
ready for you to take.

Normally I go through it all with you,
but I'm double parked downstairs.

But you shouldn't have
trouble with any of it.

- It's pretty straightforward.
- One apartment?

Oh, copies mostly.

Look, if you want, I can go downstairs,

park the car in a lot, take a cab
back and just let the court wait.

But it's also simple.

Arthur is giving you power
of attorney to sell the loft.

You are giving him a check
for half the purchase price.

The rest are just papers attesting
to papers you've already signed.

Here, have a quick look.

You certainly made a good investment
when you bought that loft.

It's a shame to let it go.

I don't think we're ready
to be a two dwelling family.

So sublet it.

Arthur needs the money.

Oh, Arthur got plenty already.

I'm not crying for Arthur.

I don't hear you starting it again, do I?

Your interests and your
wishes are my only concern.

But it is ridiculous.

We'd have no trouble
contesting collins will June.

You have his child to support.

And I have a great job.

And my husband has a great job.

And what has Arthur got to my mind?

50% of everything that
belongs to you and more.

All of Colin's personal affects
the furniture.

I suppose they're 3 years
together mean absolutely nothing.

Compared to your eleven years of marriage.

Not nothing, but not half of everything.

Who gets witch copies?

Two of each for Arthur, one for you.

And anything that's left
over comes back to me.

I still say you should have rented the
place out for a year first and then sold it.

You would have gotten
an even better price.

Who wants to buy a place when they
know someone's died there? No one.

And certainly no one wants to buy a place
when they know someone's died of AIDS.

June, stop.

That was out of line.

Sometimes my mouth does that to me.

Hey, that's why I'm a lawyer.

If my brain worked as fast as my mouth,
I would have gotten a real job.

So, is there anything else before I have
to use my fee to pay the towing bill?

I guess not.

Great.

Look, do yourself a favor.

Meet Arthur in a restaurant or something.

Stay out of the loft.

Look, I know I'm approaching
this a bit coldly.

I am aware that someone
you love has just died.

But there is a time
and a place for everything.

This is about tidying up loose ends,
not holding hands.

Please remember that when you meet him.

Give me a call.

Arthur just ran out to the store.

He left the keys on that table.

Thank you.

What is with you today?

Get your clothes back in the court.

Jimmy, don't make me crazy.
We'll go inside.

I'll call Anne Helen and see if you
can go down and play with Robbie.

I'm going downstairs.

Jimmy, please.

This place gives me the creeps.

It's your father's apartment.

There's nothing creepy about it.

Says you.

Would you mind closing the door, please?

Now, look, why don't you go upstairs

to your room and make sure you
haven't left anything behind?

- It's empty.
- Go look
- At a glass.

Honey, we so old, this apartment.

You're never going to be here again.

Now just go and make sure
you have everything that you need.

Go Arthur packed everything.

- Go make sure
- There's nothing in there.

I said make sure.

Everything's in argument with this one.

Jimmy, you all right?

Nothing told me so.

Arthur must have worked very hard.
Make sure you thank him.

What for?
Robbie says he love cleaning up.

You can be a real joy
sometimes, you know that?

Did you call in Helen?

Do I get a break here?

- How's she going to say goodbye?
- To who?

The apartment. You and your
daddy spent a lot of time here.

Don't you want
to take one last look around?

Nah. Get a real life.

Oh, that's nice.

That's very nice.

Could you call already?

What does it look like I'm doing?

Helen, hi.

No, I'm upstairs.

Yeah, listen, Jimmy wants
to know if he can come down.

Great, thanks.

Don't go to the street and don't
play in the elevator.

Hi.

No, I'm fine.

Yeah, Jimmy just told
me to get a real life.

I don't think I could
deal with anything real.

No, listen no, that's not necessary.

No,
I'm going to be back in a few minutes

and we just have to sign a few papers
and get rid of a few loose ends.

Tie them up.

I could use a stiff drink but...

Now I drove.

Yeah, well, maybe I'll
just come down afterwards.

Okay? Yeah.

Okay.

One last thing to prank.

Hey. Mind getting you right out.

Hey, anybody here like chocolate?

Thanks, Mr. Pistol.

You know,
I never traveled out of full day supply,

but you never know when you're going
to run into a desperate chocolate maniac.

Better to be prepared, right?

- I didn't hear the door.
- Hi.

Listen, I was going to ask you

if you were thinking of taking
this, because if you're not, I'll take it.

Unless, of course, you want it.

No, you can have it.

I never really liked it.

I hate cats.

I didn't even like the show.

I got this for my college dorm room.

I was never exactly a rock poster type.

Kept it in the back of a closet for years.

And then when Colin moved
in here, he took it.

He said he liked it.

I did, too.

Oh, well, then you keep it.

No, take it.

There's really no room for it.
You keep it.

I don't want it.

- Well, if you're sure.
- You're taking the teapot?

If you don't mind.

One less thing to pack.

Exactly what I said.

One less thing to pack.

My mother gave it to Colin and me when
we moved into her first apartment.

The silliest and a manual piece of job,
you know.

That's not the one.

Sure it is.
Homemades for Westinghouse back in the 30.

See them in antique shows all the time.

I always want to get another one,
but they ask a fortune for them.

We broke the one your mother gave you.
That's a reproduction.

You can get them almost anywhere
in the Village for $18.

Really?

Well, I'll have to pick one up.

Take that one.

No, it's yours.
You bought it.

One last thing to pack.

I'll be silly.
You didn't come here to raid the place.

Was there anything else he
thought you might like to have?

They're making me feel so dumb.

Actually, there were a few things.

I made a list.

Not for me,
but I was thinking of different people.

Friends, relatives who might want to have
something of Collins to remember him by.

I didn't know what you were
throwing out and what you were taking.

Anyway, I made a list.

Look it over.

You probably thought of a lot
of these people yourself.

There are only suggestions, but I figured
it couldn't hurt to write it all down.

And like I said, I didn't know
what you were planning on keeping.

I was planning on keeping it all.

I know. But some of these things are really
useless, like his high school yearbooks.

What would you want to do with them?

Oh, should I be interested
in his gay period?

I didn't mean it like that.

Anyway, you look it over.

Whatever you decide is fine
with me.

It would have to be, wouldn't it?

I mean, this is all mine.

He did leave it all to me.

While we're on the subject of what's yours.

I brought a batch of condolence cards,

that they were addressed
to you care of me.

Relatives mostly.

Of course, I'm going to have to have
another printing of thank you now.

It's done.

Well, I answered those last week. You
don't have to bother, unless you want to.

Fortune for signature where's not?

They are addressed to both of us.

And, well, they're mostly distant
relatives friends we haven't seen in ages,

so nobody important.

If they have my name under my
Name than myself.

I'll tell you not to.
I was just saying you didn't have to.

I understand.

I'll just put this back.

No.

I'd like to do this.

Thanks.

I understand.

I ran into Jimmy playing in the elevator.

He's really racking up the points today.

He still can't look me in the face.

He's reacting to all
this really strangely.

Give him time.
He'll come around.

He's really very fond of you.

Oh, I know.
He's just at that awkward age under 30.

I'm sure in 20 years
he'll be best of friends.

What you think does that mean?

I just thought you were intimating something
about him blaming you for Colin's death.

And I was saying it isn't true.

We discussed it a lot and.

He knows that his father was
sick before you two ever met.

I don't believe this.

I'm just trying to say
that he doesn't blame you.

First of all, who asked you?

Secondly, that's between him and me.

And third, and most importantly,
of course he blames me.

Marian, he's nine years old.

You can discuss all you want.

The fact is his father died of a fag disease
and I'm the only fag around his finger.

Son does not use that kind of language.

Forget the language.
I'm talking about what he's been through.

Can you imagine the kind of crap
he's had to take from friends?

He's got to have someone
to blame just to survive.

He can't blame you.
You're all he's got.

Can't blame his father that he's dead.

So Uncle Ossa gets the
shaft. Fine. I can handle it.

You're so wrong, Arthur. I know my
son. That is not the way his mind works.

I don't know what you know.
I only know what I know.

And all I know is what I see and hear
the snide remarks, the little smirks.

And it's not just the illness.

He's been looking for a scapegoat
since you and Colin first split up.

Finally, I came along and insisted
that he know the truth.

Well, thank God for uncle loss.

- Thank God for someone to blame.
- Wait.

Are you saying if he's going
to blame someone, that should be me?

I am simply trying to say that you should
try to see things from his point of view.

And where do you get off thinking
you're privy to my son's point of view.

What is so hard to imagine?

Life's rolling right along.

He's having a happy little childhood

and all of a sudden one day
his father's moving out.

No excuses, no explanations.

None of the fights that usually
accompany such things.

Divorce is hard enough for a kid to understand
when he's listened to years of battles.

But yours?

What should we have done? Takes a few months
worth of fights before Colin left.

You could have told
him the truth, plain and simple.

He was four years old at the time.

How the hell do you tell a four year old

that his father is leaving his
mother to go sleep with other men?

Well, not like that.

I'm going to say this as
nicely as I can but out.

There's only so much information
a child that age can handle.

So as best he reaches Phil on the street.

He knew about the two of you.

We discussed it.

Married him before you
disgusted his young stupid.

It's very easy for you to stand there

and pass judgment and all this.

But the're are certain aspects and issues of
this situation that you'll never understand.

You weren't there.

You have no idea what it was like for me.

You're talking to someone who thought
you went to college to meet a husband.

I went to protest.
Where Alice and the music.

I bought a guitar because it
looked good on the bench.

This lifestyle, this knowledge that you take
for granted was all the left field for me.

I met Colin my sophomore year
and we got married right after graduation

and settled right in for a nice
quiet life of kids and careers.

You think I was ready for this?

Talk about life's little surprises.

You live with somebody for eleven years
and you share a life, a bed.

You have a child and one day you wake up
and he tells you it's all been a lie.

A lie?

Try that one on the side.

Here you are, the happiest couple you know
and he tells you it's all been a lie.

I'm sure he never said that.

I'll be so sure.

There was a lot of new ground being broken
back then and most of it was muddy.

He still loved you.

Was that supposed to do
make things easier?

Well it doesn't.

I was brought up to believe that if
you love somebody that was enough.

So what if I wasn't
everything he ever wanted?

Maybe he wasn't everything I ever wanted.
But you know what?

You count your blessings and you settle.

No one has to settle.

Of course not.

You can say up yours to everyone

whoever needs you and relies on you
and go off to make yourself happy.

It's not that simple.

No, death is simpler.

You happy now?

Have had a nice hot cup of coffee.

Tea with lemon,
cocoa with a marshmallow floating in it.

I lied before.

He was everything I ever wanted.

When I ran into Jimmy before,
I absolutely freaked for a second.

It's incredible how much they look alike.

It's like seeing a little
miniature Colin standing there.

I know.

He's like his clone.

There's nothing of me and him.

I always thought he'd take
after me as he matured.

It not much hope, I guess.

They don't do anything bad.

Anything we can consume is
one less thing to pack.

So you've said.

So we've said.

I want to keep seeing you.

And I want you to keep seeing Jimmy.

You're still part of this family.

I have been lucky enough to meet you.

Well, why the kids would grow
up looking like me anyway.

I Had enough trouble with this. What misery.

What do you mean? You're adorable.

I speak about have a good personality.

Just need a few good night's sleep
to get the rings on your eyes.

Removing dark circles from my eyes
is like removing rings from the moon.

I like you like this.

From the time that Colin started using

the wheelchair until he died,
about six months, I lost £17.

No gym, no diet.

He's been gone seven weeks.

I've gained more than 20.

You are exaggerating.

I'd prove it on the bathroom scale,
but I sold it in working order.

Never know.

Marion.
You'd never know.

But ask my belt, ask my pants.

Ask my underwear.

My stretch socks have stretch marks.

I called the ambulance about 05:00 A.m..

By nine he was in the morgue and I was
on a first name basis with Sarah Lee.

I can tell you the location of every 25

hours grocery in the
greater New York area.

I have memorized the phone numbers

of every Hunan Setiwan and souvlaki
joint with free delivery.

I was even thinking of starting
my own overeaters hotline.

We'd have to start small by expansion
guaranteed.

If I couldn't be everything he ever wanted,
I'm grateful he found someone like you.

Keep your goddamn gratitude to yourself.

I didn't go through any of this for you.

Your thanks are out of line.

And he did not find someone like me.

It was me.

And I'll ask you
to remember one thing more.

He died in my arms.

Not yours.

Look,

I know that you are trying to say
something supportive save your breath.

There's nothing you're going to say that's
going to make any of this any easier for me.

And that's your fault, because after three
years you still have no idea of who I am.

Or maybe you do know and you
don't want to accept it.

I don't know. I don't care.

But at least understand
from my point of view who you are.

You are my husband's ex wife,
if you're like, the mother of my stepson,

don't flatter yourself into thinking
you're any more than that.

And whatever you are,
you're certainly not my friend.

I'll just leave these papers here and.

I'll be out of your way.

Don't you mean I'll be out of your way?

After all, I'm not just signing papers,
I'm signing away my home.

Just sign them where indicated
and send them back to my lawyer.

Don't forget my painting.

What do you want from me, Arthur?

I want you out of my apartment.

I want you out of my life.
And I want you to leave Colin alone.

The man is dead.

I know how much more alone i can leave it.

You lost your marriage.

For the life of me,

I don't know what I've done
to make you treat me like this.

But you're not going to get away with it.

You are not going to take
your anger out onto me.

I will not stand here and be
insulted and badgered by you.

I know you've been hurt.

I know you're hurting.

But you're not the only one
who's lost someone here.

Yes, I am.

You didn't just lose him. I did.

He lost him five years
ago when he divorced you.

This is not your moment of grief.
It's mine.

These condolences do not belong to you.
They are mine.

His things are not yours to give away.

They are mine and paid for.

I suffered for them.

I bled for them.

I am the one who cooked his meals.

I am the one who spoon fed them.

I pushed his wheelchair.

I changed his diapers
and wiped his backside.

I kept him alive for two years,
longer than any doctor thought possible.

And when it was time,
I was the one who prepared him for death.

I have paid in full for my place in his
life, and I will not share it with you.

We are not the two
widows of Colin Redding.

Your life was not here.

You have a husband and his
son somewhere else.

You've got a whole new life sitting there
waiting for you, wondering as I am,

what the hell you're doing
here and why you won't let go.

Let him go married is mine.

Mine.

One marshmallow or two?

Take three. This small.

Now let me tell you how I really feel.

Do you think I sell the apartment
to throw you out? I really didn't.

No.

I thought the expenses here
would be too much for you.

And I knew you couldn't let that happen.

I thought if we sold it, you'd have
a nice chunk of money to start over with.

You could have given me
a little more time, maybe.

I thought the sooner you were out of here,
the sooner you get on with your life.

I don't think it was my life
that you were worried about.

Maybe...

Anyway, I'm not going to say, but I
don't know what you're talking about.

When I read Collins obituary
in the newspaper,

I saw my name
and Jimmy's and no mention of you.

It was the secretary who wrote
that up and said to him, not me.

But I should have done something
about it, and I didn't.

I know.

Wouldn't have made any difference.

I wrote my own obituary for him and I
sent it into the smaller papers.

They edited me out.

I'm sorry.

It was the secretary who wrote it
who wrote it and didn't tell me.

I remember at the funeral,
standing there being surrounded by Collins

family and business associates while
you were standing with your friends.

And I knew it was wrong.
I knew I should have done something.

But... I felt good to have them around me.

And you look as if you
were holding up wrong.

But, Arthur, I didn't tell them
what to do or who to stand with.

You didn't tell them not to?

Arthur,
most of the people we're talking about

didn't even know that Colin
was gay right up to his death.

And those that did know only
found out when he was sick.

And work leaked out that he had AIDS.

Now, I don't think I have to tell you how
stupid and illinformed most people are

on the subject of homosexual
sexuality and AIDS.

The kind of insane behavior that word.

Inspires that's people at the funeral.

How many times have you
seen them over the years?

How many of them ever came here?

How many of them ever
came to the hospital?

Why should they behave any
differently after his death?

All right, that explains their
behavior, but what about mine?

Well, maybe there are no
explanations, only excuses.

Excuse number one is you're right.

I never really did let go of him.

The first year after he moved out,
we talked all the time.

Two or three times a day.

We talked about everything. His new
life, his apartment, the man he was seeing.

It kept us close.
It kept me part of his intimate life.

And as long as we kept talking,

I could hold on to the hope that maybe someday
he would get over on this and come home.

And then he got sick.

He called me to tell me he was
in the hospital, would I come see him.

I ran.

When I got there,
I saw the sign on his door.

Instructions for visitors
of an AIDS patient.

I nearly died.

He didn't tell you?

No.

Believe me, the sign is no
way to find out these things.

He was so angry.

He was so sick.

I thought he'd die right then.
Not from the illness.

From the hospital staff neglect the fight
to get them to do anything for him.

I didn't blame him.
They were scared.

I was scared whole month he was there.

I didn't let Jimmy visit him once.

Stupid idea.

But you learned.

Well, he didn't die.

And he asked if he could come
home with me until he got well.

I said yes, of course.

Yes.

I never thought I'd admit this to anyone,

but if he'd asked to come home
for a few weeks, I would have said no.

But he asked to come
home until he was well.

And to me, that meant forever.

He was coming home with me forever.

Not that I wanted him to die,

but I assumed and we'd be together
for whatever time he had.

Can you understand?

Two weeks later, he left.

He moved back here to this apartment.

We bought it as an investment,
never to live in.

Pretty soon the name Arthur starts
creeping into every conversation.

Do you see the doctor? Oh, yes.
Arthur. Maybe keep the appointment.

Do you go to your folks for Thanksgiving?

No, actually.
Arthur not having friends over.

I didn't know which one
was more of a coward.

Him for not telling me about you,
or me for not asking.

And then we met.

I don't think my loving him
threatened your relationship.

Maybe I'm not being truthful
of myself, but I dealt.

That's not to say I wasn't jealous,

but I was happy for Colin because
there was no denying he was happy.

Despite everything he was facing,
he was happy at last.

He lit up with you.

I envied that.

And you.

The way you cared for him,
sometimes overcared for him.

I never could have done it.
I couldn't have survived.

I don't know how you did.

You said I survived?

You entered his relationship
knowing full well

on all probability this
is the way it would end.

And you never wavered?

Of course I did married
and don't have me sink it.

Sometimes you got no choice.

Believe me, if I could have gotten
away from him, I would have.

But I was a prisoner of love anyway.

There were lots of pluses.

Got to quit a job I hated,
stay home all day and watch game shows.

Got to meet a lot of doctors.

Learned a lot of big words.

And there was all the exciting,
exotic traveling we got to do.

I have a box of a souvenir
from each place we went.

You want to see?

These are from the house that we rented in
Reno when we went to clear out Collins lungs.

And these are from the hospital in Reno.

Colin made them.

That a wonderful lots and crafts program.

This is from our first visit
to the clinic in Paris.

And this is from our second
visit to the clinic in Paris.

Faith healing in Philly.

It doesn't do much for a fever,

but it looks great with a green swanner.

With a voodoo doctor in New Orleans.

Then we have Mexico, Houston, Boston, La.

San Francisco.

We traveled anywhere where they had hoped
to sell and we came home with souvenirs.

Marion I would have done anything,
gone anywhere to avoid or delay.

And not just because I
loved him so desperately.

But when you've lived

the way that we lived for three years,
the battle becomes your life.

And I guess that's why I didn't tell you

we were losing him,
why I didn't call until after he was gone.

Marion, the last hours of his life were
beyond any scenario he had imagined.

You know, he hadn't walked
in nearly six months.

He was totally incontinent.

If he spoke two words in a week,
I was thrilled.

Days went by without his
ever even looking at me.

He would just stare at it
I don't know what.

Not the meals I fed him
not the TV I play all the time, just out.

Or maybe it was the middle of the night

and his breathing was becoming labored.

His lungs were filling with fluid again,

I knew the sound,
I heard it enough times before.

So I called the ambulance.

I got him to the hospital.

They hooked him up to the machines, the
oxygen and they shot him with morphine.

And they told me that they would do
what they could to keep them alive.

I pulled the chair up next to the bed

and I was sitting there reading a magazine
wondering whether to call Helen to let

the cleaning lady in or maybe he'd fall
asleep and I could sneak home for an hour.

The moment I looked up,
he was looking at me.

Really looking right into my eyes.

I reached up and that pat is his cheek.

I said, Honey, it's all right.

Everything's going to be fine.

But that wasn't enough for him.

There was something more
and I don't know what I was thinking.

I'm not sure I was.

I just heard myself saying...

Collin... do you want to die?

His eyes filled.

And they closed.

And he nodded.

I slipped off my shoes.

I folded back the blanket and I
climbed him to bed next to him.

I put my arms around him

and I helped him to put
his arms around me.

And I told him.

It's all right to let go now.

It's time to move on.

And he did.

Marion, you've got a life.

And his son.

I understand.

Oh, jeez.
With all this screaming and sad story telling

I forgot I bring
you flowers and everything.

You brought me flowers?

Well, I knew you'd never
think to bring me flowers.

And I felt that on an occasion such as this
somebody ought to get flowers from somebody.

Did anybody ever tell you you can make
somebody feel like a real piece of garbage?

Yes. So what else is new?

Listen, you got to promise me one thing.

What?

Don't press one in a book.

You put them in a vase and when
they say it, just toss them out.

Normal memory.

Arthur, I want to do something for you.
And I don't know.

What do you want?

Not much.

I want to be remembered.

If his mother sends you a Christmas card,
make sure she sent one to me.

If a friend calls to see how you're doing
you're doing, have him call me too.

They've called me.

Have me to dinner so I could see Jimmy.

Maybe let me take him out now and then.

Invite me to his weddings.

You got him.

Let me get the coke around
in the way. We still got the deep.

Yeah. Now, you'll get Jimmy home
in time For practice.

Any practice.

Basketball.

About this list you do whatever you want.

Believe me, I will.

I promise I will take your
suggestions into consideration.

Just don't rush me.

I'm not ready to give it all away.

Hello?

Hi.

It's your eager Little Leaguer.

Hi, honey.

No, I'll be down in about five minutes.
You know what?

Why don't you come up and get me, Gabby?

I said, why don't you come up here?

I said I want you to come up here
because I said so.

Thank you.

Okay.
So where do we get started here?

Listen, do you want
to do this another time?

No, let's get this over with now.

I don't think I could survive
another one of these sessions.

I've been meaning to ask you.

How are you?

I'm a hell.
I'm fine. No, really fine.

I've been checked by the doctor.
Nothing.

But we were very careful.

I took many precautions.

Colin, you said joke that we
should invest in rubble futures.

Sounds like him.

He never occurred to me
until now about you.

We didn't have sex after he got sick.

But before.

I test positive.
I have the antibodies in my blood.

There are no signs that
it'll develop into anything.

And it has been five years,
so chances are that I'm just a carrier.

Collin never told me he didn't know.

He didn't know.

Actually, the only person that knows aside
from my husband and my doctor, is you.

And you and your husband
should invest in member futures.

The only immediate problem is if we wanted
children, which we do, so we'll wait.

So we will wait.

Miracles happen every day.

I don't know what to say.

Just tell me you'll be
there if I ever need you.

Yes, sure. Take away one
more thing that belonged to me.

Don't even joke about that.

Someone wants talk to me.

- Come on, we're going to be late.
- Don't you want to come in?

We've got to go.

Jimmy, come in.

Come on.

Take this for Mommy.

Can we go now?

Say goodbye to your Uncle Arthur.

Bye, Arthur.
Come on.

- Give him a kiss.
- Marian, don't.

Give your uncle a kiss goodbye.

He's not my uncle.

No, he's a hell of a lot
more than your uncle.

A handshake is enough.

Jimmy.

Tell your Uncle Arthur
what's your daddy told.

About what?

Don't play dumb.

Don't embarrass it.

Jimmy, please.

He said that after me mummy,
he loved you the most.

Come on.

Make sure that you're never
lonely or for your sad.

Thank you.

Get.

A child's case of magic.

Why else would they be
so stingy with them?