Grace and Frankie (2015–…): Season 2, Episode 13 - Episode #2.13 - full transcript
-Well, don't forget Babe.
-Oh.
She said she'd get that back to me.
She did not say she'd be in it.
Good one, Babe.
- It was a beautiful memorial.
- It was. It was also a bit weird.
I mean, I love the idea of putting my hand
on my neighbor's heart, but...
Well, the guy standing next to me
seemed to enjoy it.
And it all comes down to this.
Being carried around
in an old flea market find.
I know. I'm sad, too.
-It's not just Babe.
-Phil?
Yeah, that, too. But...
Oh, I don't know, it's my whole life.
Well, death has a way
of doing that to people.
But, you know, Babe devoured life.
You know? She never settled for anything.
Up to the very last minute.
She always knew what she wanted
and wasn't afraid to go out and get it.
Yeah. As opposed to me,
who still doesn't know what she wants.
Oh, gosh, I know this is an important
conversation, but look, presents!
They're from Babe!
Just like Babe to get you
a little something for killing her.
Oh...
"Darling Frankie,
I was told these brushes
are the exact ones Picasso used
to paint Guernica.
If this proves wrong, you should know
I still had a terrific time
sleeping with two Spaniards to get them.
The postcard is the main event, anyway."
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
"I've rented the gallery space,
you just need to fill it.
You've got one month.
Get crackin', toots.
All my love and eternal thanks.
Literally, my eternal thanks.
Love, Babe."
This is really sweet.
What did you get?
Let's see.
Mmm.
You get something inspiring and artful,
and I get a vibrator?
Maybe that's your paintbrush, Grace.
"Dearest Grace,
this is even better than drinking
and it won't make your face puffy.
And it won't break your heart.
Love, Babe."
-That is a good vibrator.
-It is?
Much better than the ones
with the pull start.
Makes you feel like
you're using a chainsaw.
Yeah, totally. I hate those.
Ha! They don't exist! Trick question!
There was no question.
The question is:
"Have you ever used one?" Answer: "No."
I use... I-- Other things.
Other than a man's penis,
what have you used?
A man's penis.
Never used a vibrator!
This really explains so much.
Look, sister,
start that sucker up and get to it.
I need to get to it, too,
because I've got a show in four weeks.
It's kind of like a microphone.
Oh, it'll make you sing.
Jeez, how do they expect you to read this?
"Dishwasher safe."
Oh, well, that's something.
You know what else Thoreau said?
"No man is so poor
he must sit on a pumpkin."
So, yeah, they weren't all gems.
As an artist,
I've had a few that weren't gems, too.
But this... you are the crown jewel.
Oh, Goddess knows, even dead,
you're still more fun
than Count Drinkula over there.
Thank you for reminding me
I'm an artist.
You have something on your nose.
Sol! Sol, it's Frankie,
the artist formerly known as your wife.
Yes, I remember you.
You're the quiet one.
The one who threw paint
on Burt Reynolds' fur coat.
What can I do for you?
Well, first, you should know I have
an art show three weeks from now
at the Lotus Gallery, seven to nine p.m.
Wine and cheese offered.
It's a retrospective with new works.
Congratulations. That's amazing.
I know.
And any true Frankie B. retrospective
has to include Hitler's Circumcision.
I could see why you'd say that. Uh-huh.
So, I need K. Loggins' contact info.
You know, uh, Kenny Loggins
is not a client anymore
and he's very private.
I'm not sure I'm comfortable
with your calling him.
Well, then you call him.
Sol, this is important.
He has to be there.
He's the man who legitimized me
as an artist.
I think you're giving Kenny
way too much power.
Selling a painting
isn't what makes you an artist.
Oh, tell that to the IRS.
-But--
-Call Kenny!
Okay.
Thank you and goodbye.
You're not going to tell her, are you?
Yes, you are. I can see it on your face.
What choice do I have?
How about never telling her?
Which part should I never tell her?
That it was Larry
who did Kenny Loggins' divorce?
Or that he never bought her painting?
-All of the above.
-I feel terrible.
You shouldn't! You did it
out of the kindness of your heart.
She was going through a hard time
and it was the greatest gift
you ever gave her.
She's been dining out
on that story for years.
It still makes her happy.
Please just let it alone.
But she's never going to stop
until she gets that painting.
She's sent me six text messages
since we hung up
-and they all say "Kenny Loggins."
-Here's what you do.
You go to the garage, you dig it out,
you say you got it back from him,
and he sends his best.
I don't know.
Oh! Just tell her Kenny Loggins
is giving her painting back
'cause "everybody's gotta footloose."
I don't know.
Grace. Oh, things are happening
in my studio.
You're not having spider races again,
are you?
I am in a creative fury
like never before.
I am en fuego.
I have birthed a work that may have
even surpassed Hitler's Circumcision.
Which, as you may remember, is in--
"Is in the private collection
of one Mr. Kenny Loggins."
Well, this you don't know.
He's coming to my opening.
-Really?
-After I ask him.
He's a collector.
He's a fan. And he has been since--
"The day he bought it
right off the wall in Sol's office."
Oh, but you're not
capturing the energy of it.
What happened? Did you fall?
You should have yelled.
Is it broken? Oh, my God.
Why didn't you yell?
Was that you yelling last night?
I'm fine. It's nothing.
I just need to rest it.
-Rest it? From what?
-From things that hands do.
I mean, what is with
this third degree here?
I do hand things. I like to wave.
No, no, no.
What are you hiding, Grace?
As an emotion wizard
I sense your defensiveness.
I'm not defensive.
What I'm struggling with is,
you say your hand is in trauma
and yet your pallor is...
a flush pink of renewal.
Hold it. Uh-oh.
You haven't been doing hand things,
you've been doing hand jobs.
On yourself.
How was it? Walk me through it.
Well, it was--
Frankie, look, there's a drone!
Oh, son of a bitch!
Get my T-shirt cannon!
-Hey! Ooh, my cake.
-Hey.
That's not funny.
You have no idea the pain
of being a leapling.
No, but I heard about it
every birthday not divisible by four.
And I read your horrible short story,
The Last Leaper.
It's a novella.
-Ah.
-Hi.
I can't believe
you're already eight years old.
-Believe it.
-So tall.
Hey, Mom. I'm really sorry about Babe.
Thank you, honey.
I mean, I wish all my friends were dead,
but I imagine it's really sad
when it actually starts happening.
It's not the best time of life.
And yet here you are training for
the uneven bars at the next Olympics.
Oh, it's just my arthritis flaring up.
I've gotten back into calligraphy.
It's good you have something to do.
All right,
I gotta go break Bud's balls.
-Budlas.
-Excuse me.
I hope you like your gift,
the store was out of puberty.
Yeah? Well, the same store...
said you're a bitch.
Yeah, that's why I shop there.
Oh, it's a sad party.
Happy birthday, Bud.
Hello. Did you bring the cornbread?
Oh. Calligraphy!
Since when do you do calligraphy?
Since you took me to see
the Constitution
and I said, "Oh, that's pretty."
What's all this?
Oh, well, we've been going through
a lot of stuff and we're downsizing,
so I put some things aside
I thought you might want.
That is really thoughtful. Thank you.
I'm a very thoughtful man.
With a few notable exceptions.
So, what's in here?
I have no idea. I asked Hildy
to put them together for you.
You had the housekeeper pack them up?
Well, how would I know what you'd want?
Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe
being married to me for 40 years
would've given you some clues.
Did you talk to him?
In fact, I did. And...
-I got your painting back for you.
-Ah! Kenny!
It still packs a punch.
-Can I have his number now?
-Why?
Because he'll want to be there.
Plus I want him to do a blurb.
Plus he'll probably want
another Frankie B. original.
I'll give him the VIP treatment.
As my biggest patron,
he can have a swag bag
with Skittles and a whistle.
I guess I'll just have to ask him for you.
Yeah, but you're not gonna sell it.
I think it should come from me.
-I'll work on it.
-Tick-tock, pal.
Oh, there you are. How you feeling,
sweetheart? Are you hungry?
You want to lie down?
You want something to drink?
No! No more liquids.
Just some absorbent food.
Maybe some Triscuits. Or couch stuffing.
So where's Mitch?
He is on a whitewater rafting trip
with his fraternity brothers.
Ah, good. Guy time.
Sounds like he's definitely
not having sex with other women.
No, it's all gonna be okay.
I spoke to him.
He just needed some alone time
before shit hits the fan.
-The little shits.
-I'm glad to hear it.
-I'm glad to say it.
-I gotta go.
No. No. Ah. Mm. I gotta go again.
-I'll go upstairs.
-Okay.
Hey, Mallory,
what's going on with Mitch?
Nothing...
I was a little paranoid
he might be cheating,
but it's all fine now.
-Do you want to talk about it?
-No, thanks. I'm good.
-You sure?
-Yeah, Dad and Sol were really helpful.
I do have a lot of experience
in this area.
Yeah, but what is it that they say?
That you always get better advice
from the con man than the dupe.
Wow.
No, Mom,
I didn't mean it like that--
Oh, I know what you meant.
Mmm.
Hello, is this Barney's BBQ Hut?
Hi, Jeff. You probably get this
all the time, but I read an article
that said Kenny Loggins enjoyed a meal
at your restaurant in the fall of 1988.
Do you have any way
of getting in touch with him?
-Hey, Mom.
-Oh, honey. I'm on the phone.
Uh, Jeff? Hello? Hello?
What's up?
Well, actually,
I have a little favor to ask you.
Mm-hmm. I'm not watching your lizard.
No, it's not about Spencer.
Um, Bud has a girl coming to town
this weekend and--
You need me to pretend to be
your girlfriend for a double date.
I get it. I suppose I could
dust off the old peasant skirt.
No. Not that. No. Never that.
Um, I was thinking since
you're not doing anything,
I could come crash with you.
You know, give them a little privacy.
Give us a little Mom-Coyote time.
Movies. Puzzles.
It'll be just like the last time
I stayed with you, but without the DT's.
Well, I--
And I'd ask Dad, it just seems like
they've got so much going on right now.
And you and Grace are just hanging out.
Well, I suppose it'll be fine.
Uh, Sol!
Quit ducking me, man.
I need Kenny's digits now.
Well, why don't you just contact him
through his website?
He doesn't have a website!
He lives on a farm!
No. Yeah. He's got a website.
See? It's right here.
You can buy Kenny Loggins' Zinfandel.
Oh, you can't. But I'd bet he'd want
to donate a case to the opening.
-Here, give me the phone. Here.
-No!
Hey! That's Bud's phone.
He's gonna be so mad.
Frankie, could I talk to you
in the other room?
Okay.
Try to stay calm, and remember,
I did what I did to make you happy.
What'd you do?
There is no Kenny Loggins.
There never was.
It was me.
Really, Sol? You wrote "Higher Love"?
That was Steve Winwood.
Who the hell is that?
I'm trying to tell you
that Kenny Loggins
never bought your painting.
I made the whole thing up.
What?
You were having such a hard time
with your art.
Your kiln had exploded.
You thought you were going color-blind.
I just wanted to give you a win.
So Kenny Loggins
never even saw my painting?
No, he did!
He came into our office,
and I specifically remember him
looking at it and saying "huh."
And it wasn't the "huh"
you'd expect to get
when someone sees a portrait
of Hitler in a law office.
This "huh" was a recognition
of obvious talent.
I told everyone
about that painting, Sol.
It was my whole life.
It was the one thing I had
to hang on to.
It was the one thing I had
that made me think I was a real artist.
Wait... You're leaving?
I'm sorry, but, yes, I think I am.
But I won't be nine
for another four years.
I know, honey.
But I'm upset, and time is a construct.
Well, what could be so bad
that you're leaving my party?
Well, to be honest,
your father just told me something--
Okay, you know what?
I don't want to hear it.
The past two years have been
about my father and my mother,
and I'd like for one day to be about me.
I only get that every four years.
You're right, I hear you. Bring it.
-Disperse!
-Oh, God.
- Again?
- It never ends!
What is wrong with this picture?
How the hell do you drink these things?
Usually not with a sugar rim.
Well, it's a horrible
olive delivery system.
You okay?
No, not even close.
Horrible. Miserable.
You want to talk about it?
No.
Because if I start, I won't stop,
and it'll ruin this party,
which is already on pretty thin ice.
Well, if it makes you feel any better,
it turns out the person in my family
who has the highest regard for me
is our old housekeeper.
Ow.
Man, you went to town on yourself.
Honestly, my arthritis flared up
about 30 seconds in.
I played through the pain.
Left it all on the field.
Maybe it's your technique.
I mean, are you doing the--
Are you after this kind of deal?
Like rough thrusting?
Or do you kind of like, hmm, roam around
and then slip it in at a slight angle?
You know, you can get one
that has a little thing that was,
uh, operates separately.
It will-- And then--
Or what about vertical?
Is that what you're really looking for?
Look, it's not about the, you know,
the angle, it's about the grip.
Right in here. You know, they didn't
design these things for older women.
Why does everything
have to hurt when you're our age?
Well, try another one.
Maybe you just haven't found
the right cookie rumbler yet.
I looked. Online. Nothing.
You know,
my friend Clifford loves to knit
and he has hands like
bouquets of turkey jerky.
He uses bamboo needles
with a soft gel sleeve.
Hmm.
Are you suggesting
I use his knitting needles?
No.
Well...
No.
Where's your boyfriend?
I like him.
Why would I bring him here?
Mmm.
"For Grace. Thinking of you.
With love, Robert."
Wow!
Ohh...
"Happy Anniversary.
To Grace, from Robert with love."
Hm.
"Sorry you had a bad day.
Love, Robert."
"Just because. Love, Robert."
"To Grace. Happy Birthday."
"Thanks for the help. Love, Robert."
"I miss you too. Love, Robert."
"Love, Robert." "Love, Robert."
"Congratulations. You won."
- This is not going to hurt.
- Oh, well done, Sol.
Well done.
Seriously?
Oh, I forgot all about those.
Why would you do this?
So I was prepared for any occasion.
So, for example, I'd had a bad day,
you'd come to the box and give me a gift.
-That you bought years earlier.
-Yes. Except they were in a drawer then.
-Big picture, Robert.
-Ooh, pretty.
I don't understand the problem.
The problem is
you don't understand the problem.
- I don't.
- They're not personal!
This feels like
a jar of treats for a dog!
So, you're saying
you don't want any of these?
It most certainly is personal.
I picked out each and every one of them
with you in mind.
From that store you like.
Oh, Robert, it doesn't matter
where you got them.
- It's why you got them.
- I give up.
I don't buy you a gift, you're mad.
I do buy you a gift, you're mad.
-Those aren't the only options.
-No, they are not.
-Would you do this to Sol?
-No, he would not!
Don't bring me into this.
Would you go out and buy him
30 pairs of huaraches?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
I used to think, "God, how nice.
Robert went out and got me something
because he knew I was sad."
Or "Robert got me something special
because he knew I was right
and he was wrong."
But that wasn't it at all.
It wasn't for me at all. It was for you!
So you didn't have to deal with me.
So you didn't even have to
think about me.
We'd have a fight and
you'd give me a gift from your stash.
I used to think you gave me gifts because,
I don't know, you weren't a talker.
But it was to keep me quiet.
Huh? To manage me. To handle me.
Never, not once
was it because you loved me.
I never understood our marriage
until right now.
For God sakes, Grace, we're divorced.
Aren't we past this?
-Well, I'm not.
-Where is this coming from?
I am still being treated
the way I was for 40 years,
and I am not gonna settle for it anymore.
Neither am I. I've got a belly
full of rage and martini.
Sol lied to me about Kenny Loggins.
He never bought my painting.
Yes! Yes, he did.
Yeah, we've heard that story
a billion times.
Yeah. Yeah. "He saw it on the wall
at Dad's office"--
No! Lies, lies! All lies!
You can't compare this lie
to my other lies.
The other lies were self-serving.
This one was for you.
-How generous of you.
-Oh, come on, Frankie.
-No. You humiliated me.
-I was trying to help!
I believed in you
and I wanted you to believe in you.
Oh, if you believed in me
you would not have sold me
a bag of magic beans.
He had the best of intentions.
Oh, he always does when he lies.
Apparently, he thinks I'm a child
he has to coddle.
Okay. Okay, everyone, let's--
Let's just all take a breath.
-Mom, I get that this sucks...
-No.
...but Dad's heart was in the right place.
No, what about my heart?
Does anyone get
why I am royally cheesed?
Yeah, I get it. I think.
What's "cheesed"?
She's wicked pissed.
Oh, yeah. Then I do get it,
because I'm really cheesed, too.
At least Sol humored her out of love.
What were you coming from?
Oh, right, expediency.
Oh, fine. Take me to court.
I'd love to hear your argument.
"Your Honor,
my ex-husband is a very bad man
because he bought me presents."
In bulk! Like you buy toilet paper!
Mom, don't you think
you're being a little hard on Dad?
I mean, he did think of you.
Just because they think they were
being nice doesn't mean they were.
Just to circle back, Mom, all of this
jewelry is free and clear now?
Sol, don't you understand
how disrespectful you were being?
You're acting as if I was trying to
hurt her when it was just the opposite.
I was not belittling her
or dismissing her.
Oh, really? Because "her" is in the room
and you keep calling her "her."
It feels a little dismissive to her.
I can't believe that you of all people--
Yeah, you, are talking about
being disrespectful to our mother.
Because we had front-row seats
for your drunken outburst.
Oh, you're bad at this.
You're bad at calming people down.
I didn't mean those things.
I was angry, but I didn't mean them.
I didn't. I swear. I'm so sorry.
-Apology accepted. Mmm.
-I'm so sorry.
But that doesn't mean I'm not
royally cheesed at the rest of you.
- What did we do?
- You!
You turned me into a little old lady
who's losing her mind
and shouldn't even be allowed to drive.
And I'm just a dupe who couldn't
possibly have any good advice to give.
-And you--
-Oh, God.
You said you wouldn't hire me
because I'd overshadow you.
But I gave you the first new idea that
Say Grace has had since you took over--
Well, we gave you the first idea,
and you never acknowledged it.
You took credit for it
and then you threw Frankie to the curb.
Mom, you try being in business with her.
Well, I might. I will.
-I am!
-You are?
Well, yeah. We talked about it.
- Oh, yes. We talked about it.
- What are we doing?
What are we doing? I'll tell you
what we're doing. We're...
We're making vibrators
for women with arthritis.
Yes! Vibrators! Brilliant!
-Please let my water break!
-I think I just blacked out.
Oh, grow up.
Older women masturbate too.
-Mom!
-And we have vaginas.
Why is it every time
my family gathers for a meal
someone has to bring up
my mother's vagoo?
-Just say "woodle" like a grownup.
-Okay.
I highly doubt
there's a vibrator market
for geriatric women with arthritis.
There is. I'm in agony.
It takes a lot longer
for us to get off, Sol.
-Oh!
-That's cold, Mom.
She's right.
Our blood doesn't flow as easily
-and our genital tissue is more delicate.
-Stop.
-I did some reading.
-Oh, God.
The more effort it takes
to orgasm, the more you irritate it,
and the more it inflames
your arthritis.
And I mean shouldn't older women
have it better than that?
Couldn't we fight for the right
to masturbate after lunch?
Seriously, Mom.
How do I explain to my children
that their grandma makes sex toys
for other grandmas?
I'll tell you what you can
tell them, honey.
We're making things for people like us,
because we are sick and tired
of being dismissed by people like you.
Mic drop. Let's go home.
Oh, um, if you guys are going,
I should probably go with you.
No, no, you're gonna have to do
your Mom-and-Coyote time somewhere else,
because we've got
a lot going on at our house.
Yeah.
What do you think of these?
Yeah, I'm gonna take these definitely.
Babe would be proud of us.
Don't talk about Babe
like she's not here.
Sorry. Sorry.
I feel bad.
I ruined Bud's birthday party.
But we made a hell of an exit,
didn't we?
Oh, we did.
Are we still gonna
do this business thing?
Yes. Easy-grip vibrators
with large-print instructions.
Absorbent, non-hideous panties for women
who suffer from bladder control issues.
"Don't have time to get to the bathroom?
Why bother?"
You know, why don't we
call them "Why Bothers"?
But you know something?
We can do anything we want.
Right, Babe?
-She said, "Right."
-I heard her.
You know, if I ever wanted
to do what Babe did--
I mean, I won't, but if I ever did...
you'd be the one I'd ask.
You too, Mama.
Shake.
Babe! Oh, shit! Help me scoop her up!
-No!
-Before the wind takes her away!
I don't even like to touch people
when they're alive.
Babe loves the beach.
Oh!
I got some Babe in my mouth.
Savory.
Yeah, a little...
-Oh.
She said she'd get that back to me.
She did not say she'd be in it.
Good one, Babe.
- It was a beautiful memorial.
- It was. It was also a bit weird.
I mean, I love the idea of putting my hand
on my neighbor's heart, but...
Well, the guy standing next to me
seemed to enjoy it.
And it all comes down to this.
Being carried around
in an old flea market find.
I know. I'm sad, too.
-It's not just Babe.
-Phil?
Yeah, that, too. But...
Oh, I don't know, it's my whole life.
Well, death has a way
of doing that to people.
But, you know, Babe devoured life.
You know? She never settled for anything.
Up to the very last minute.
She always knew what she wanted
and wasn't afraid to go out and get it.
Yeah. As opposed to me,
who still doesn't know what she wants.
Oh, gosh, I know this is an important
conversation, but look, presents!
They're from Babe!
Just like Babe to get you
a little something for killing her.
Oh...
"Darling Frankie,
I was told these brushes
are the exact ones Picasso used
to paint Guernica.
If this proves wrong, you should know
I still had a terrific time
sleeping with two Spaniards to get them.
The postcard is the main event, anyway."
Oh, my God! Oh, my God!
"I've rented the gallery space,
you just need to fill it.
You've got one month.
Get crackin', toots.
All my love and eternal thanks.
Literally, my eternal thanks.
Love, Babe."
This is really sweet.
What did you get?
Let's see.
Mmm.
You get something inspiring and artful,
and I get a vibrator?
Maybe that's your paintbrush, Grace.
"Dearest Grace,
this is even better than drinking
and it won't make your face puffy.
And it won't break your heart.
Love, Babe."
-That is a good vibrator.
-It is?
Much better than the ones
with the pull start.
Makes you feel like
you're using a chainsaw.
Yeah, totally. I hate those.
Ha! They don't exist! Trick question!
There was no question.
The question is:
"Have you ever used one?" Answer: "No."
I use... I-- Other things.
Other than a man's penis,
what have you used?
A man's penis.
Never used a vibrator!
This really explains so much.
Look, sister,
start that sucker up and get to it.
I need to get to it, too,
because I've got a show in four weeks.
It's kind of like a microphone.
Oh, it'll make you sing.
Jeez, how do they expect you to read this?
"Dishwasher safe."
Oh, well, that's something.
You know what else Thoreau said?
"No man is so poor
he must sit on a pumpkin."
So, yeah, they weren't all gems.
As an artist,
I've had a few that weren't gems, too.
But this... you are the crown jewel.
Oh, Goddess knows, even dead,
you're still more fun
than Count Drinkula over there.
Thank you for reminding me
I'm an artist.
You have something on your nose.
Sol! Sol, it's Frankie,
the artist formerly known as your wife.
Yes, I remember you.
You're the quiet one.
The one who threw paint
on Burt Reynolds' fur coat.
What can I do for you?
Well, first, you should know I have
an art show three weeks from now
at the Lotus Gallery, seven to nine p.m.
Wine and cheese offered.
It's a retrospective with new works.
Congratulations. That's amazing.
I know.
And any true Frankie B. retrospective
has to include Hitler's Circumcision.
I could see why you'd say that. Uh-huh.
So, I need K. Loggins' contact info.
You know, uh, Kenny Loggins
is not a client anymore
and he's very private.
I'm not sure I'm comfortable
with your calling him.
Well, then you call him.
Sol, this is important.
He has to be there.
He's the man who legitimized me
as an artist.
I think you're giving Kenny
way too much power.
Selling a painting
isn't what makes you an artist.
Oh, tell that to the IRS.
-But--
-Call Kenny!
Okay.
Thank you and goodbye.
You're not going to tell her, are you?
Yes, you are. I can see it on your face.
What choice do I have?
How about never telling her?
Which part should I never tell her?
That it was Larry
who did Kenny Loggins' divorce?
Or that he never bought her painting?
-All of the above.
-I feel terrible.
You shouldn't! You did it
out of the kindness of your heart.
She was going through a hard time
and it was the greatest gift
you ever gave her.
She's been dining out
on that story for years.
It still makes her happy.
Please just let it alone.
But she's never going to stop
until she gets that painting.
She's sent me six text messages
since we hung up
-and they all say "Kenny Loggins."
-Here's what you do.
You go to the garage, you dig it out,
you say you got it back from him,
and he sends his best.
I don't know.
Oh! Just tell her Kenny Loggins
is giving her painting back
'cause "everybody's gotta footloose."
I don't know.
Grace. Oh, things are happening
in my studio.
You're not having spider races again,
are you?
I am in a creative fury
like never before.
I am en fuego.
I have birthed a work that may have
even surpassed Hitler's Circumcision.
Which, as you may remember, is in--
"Is in the private collection
of one Mr. Kenny Loggins."
Well, this you don't know.
He's coming to my opening.
-Really?
-After I ask him.
He's a collector.
He's a fan. And he has been since--
"The day he bought it
right off the wall in Sol's office."
Oh, but you're not
capturing the energy of it.
What happened? Did you fall?
You should have yelled.
Is it broken? Oh, my God.
Why didn't you yell?
Was that you yelling last night?
I'm fine. It's nothing.
I just need to rest it.
-Rest it? From what?
-From things that hands do.
I mean, what is with
this third degree here?
I do hand things. I like to wave.
No, no, no.
What are you hiding, Grace?
As an emotion wizard
I sense your defensiveness.
I'm not defensive.
What I'm struggling with is,
you say your hand is in trauma
and yet your pallor is...
a flush pink of renewal.
Hold it. Uh-oh.
You haven't been doing hand things,
you've been doing hand jobs.
On yourself.
How was it? Walk me through it.
Well, it was--
Frankie, look, there's a drone!
Oh, son of a bitch!
Get my T-shirt cannon!
-Hey! Ooh, my cake.
-Hey.
That's not funny.
You have no idea the pain
of being a leapling.
No, but I heard about it
every birthday not divisible by four.
And I read your horrible short story,
The Last Leaper.
It's a novella.
-Ah.
-Hi.
I can't believe
you're already eight years old.
-Believe it.
-So tall.
Hey, Mom. I'm really sorry about Babe.
Thank you, honey.
I mean, I wish all my friends were dead,
but I imagine it's really sad
when it actually starts happening.
It's not the best time of life.
And yet here you are training for
the uneven bars at the next Olympics.
Oh, it's just my arthritis flaring up.
I've gotten back into calligraphy.
It's good you have something to do.
All right,
I gotta go break Bud's balls.
-Budlas.
-Excuse me.
I hope you like your gift,
the store was out of puberty.
Yeah? Well, the same store...
said you're a bitch.
Yeah, that's why I shop there.
Oh, it's a sad party.
Happy birthday, Bud.
Hello. Did you bring the cornbread?
Oh. Calligraphy!
Since when do you do calligraphy?
Since you took me to see
the Constitution
and I said, "Oh, that's pretty."
What's all this?
Oh, well, we've been going through
a lot of stuff and we're downsizing,
so I put some things aside
I thought you might want.
That is really thoughtful. Thank you.
I'm a very thoughtful man.
With a few notable exceptions.
So, what's in here?
I have no idea. I asked Hildy
to put them together for you.
You had the housekeeper pack them up?
Well, how would I know what you'd want?
Oh, I don't know. I thought maybe
being married to me for 40 years
would've given you some clues.
Did you talk to him?
In fact, I did. And...
-I got your painting back for you.
-Ah! Kenny!
It still packs a punch.
-Can I have his number now?
-Why?
Because he'll want to be there.
Plus I want him to do a blurb.
Plus he'll probably want
another Frankie B. original.
I'll give him the VIP treatment.
As my biggest patron,
he can have a swag bag
with Skittles and a whistle.
I guess I'll just have to ask him for you.
Yeah, but you're not gonna sell it.
I think it should come from me.
-I'll work on it.
-Tick-tock, pal.
Oh, there you are. How you feeling,
sweetheart? Are you hungry?
You want to lie down?
You want something to drink?
No! No more liquids.
Just some absorbent food.
Maybe some Triscuits. Or couch stuffing.
So where's Mitch?
He is on a whitewater rafting trip
with his fraternity brothers.
Ah, good. Guy time.
Sounds like he's definitely
not having sex with other women.
No, it's all gonna be okay.
I spoke to him.
He just needed some alone time
before shit hits the fan.
-The little shits.
-I'm glad to hear it.
-I'm glad to say it.
-I gotta go.
No. No. Ah. Mm. I gotta go again.
-I'll go upstairs.
-Okay.
Hey, Mallory,
what's going on with Mitch?
Nothing...
I was a little paranoid
he might be cheating,
but it's all fine now.
-Do you want to talk about it?
-No, thanks. I'm good.
-You sure?
-Yeah, Dad and Sol were really helpful.
I do have a lot of experience
in this area.
Yeah, but what is it that they say?
That you always get better advice
from the con man than the dupe.
Wow.
No, Mom,
I didn't mean it like that--
Oh, I know what you meant.
Mmm.
Hello, is this Barney's BBQ Hut?
Hi, Jeff. You probably get this
all the time, but I read an article
that said Kenny Loggins enjoyed a meal
at your restaurant in the fall of 1988.
Do you have any way
of getting in touch with him?
-Hey, Mom.
-Oh, honey. I'm on the phone.
Uh, Jeff? Hello? Hello?
What's up?
Well, actually,
I have a little favor to ask you.
Mm-hmm. I'm not watching your lizard.
No, it's not about Spencer.
Um, Bud has a girl coming to town
this weekend and--
You need me to pretend to be
your girlfriend for a double date.
I get it. I suppose I could
dust off the old peasant skirt.
No. Not that. No. Never that.
Um, I was thinking since
you're not doing anything,
I could come crash with you.
You know, give them a little privacy.
Give us a little Mom-Coyote time.
Movies. Puzzles.
It'll be just like the last time
I stayed with you, but without the DT's.
Well, I--
And I'd ask Dad, it just seems like
they've got so much going on right now.
And you and Grace are just hanging out.
Well, I suppose it'll be fine.
Uh, Sol!
Quit ducking me, man.
I need Kenny's digits now.
Well, why don't you just contact him
through his website?
He doesn't have a website!
He lives on a farm!
No. Yeah. He's got a website.
See? It's right here.
You can buy Kenny Loggins' Zinfandel.
Oh, you can't. But I'd bet he'd want
to donate a case to the opening.
-Here, give me the phone. Here.
-No!
Hey! That's Bud's phone.
He's gonna be so mad.
Frankie, could I talk to you
in the other room?
Okay.
Try to stay calm, and remember,
I did what I did to make you happy.
What'd you do?
There is no Kenny Loggins.
There never was.
It was me.
Really, Sol? You wrote "Higher Love"?
That was Steve Winwood.
Who the hell is that?
I'm trying to tell you
that Kenny Loggins
never bought your painting.
I made the whole thing up.
What?
You were having such a hard time
with your art.
Your kiln had exploded.
You thought you were going color-blind.
I just wanted to give you a win.
So Kenny Loggins
never even saw my painting?
No, he did!
He came into our office,
and I specifically remember him
looking at it and saying "huh."
And it wasn't the "huh"
you'd expect to get
when someone sees a portrait
of Hitler in a law office.
This "huh" was a recognition
of obvious talent.
I told everyone
about that painting, Sol.
It was my whole life.
It was the one thing I had
to hang on to.
It was the one thing I had
that made me think I was a real artist.
Wait... You're leaving?
I'm sorry, but, yes, I think I am.
But I won't be nine
for another four years.
I know, honey.
But I'm upset, and time is a construct.
Well, what could be so bad
that you're leaving my party?
Well, to be honest,
your father just told me something--
Okay, you know what?
I don't want to hear it.
The past two years have been
about my father and my mother,
and I'd like for one day to be about me.
I only get that every four years.
You're right, I hear you. Bring it.
-Disperse!
-Oh, God.
- Again?
- It never ends!
What is wrong with this picture?
How the hell do you drink these things?
Usually not with a sugar rim.
Well, it's a horrible
olive delivery system.
You okay?
No, not even close.
Horrible. Miserable.
You want to talk about it?
No.
Because if I start, I won't stop,
and it'll ruin this party,
which is already on pretty thin ice.
Well, if it makes you feel any better,
it turns out the person in my family
who has the highest regard for me
is our old housekeeper.
Ow.
Man, you went to town on yourself.
Honestly, my arthritis flared up
about 30 seconds in.
I played through the pain.
Left it all on the field.
Maybe it's your technique.
I mean, are you doing the--
Are you after this kind of deal?
Like rough thrusting?
Or do you kind of like, hmm, roam around
and then slip it in at a slight angle?
You know, you can get one
that has a little thing that was,
uh, operates separately.
It will-- And then--
Or what about vertical?
Is that what you're really looking for?
Look, it's not about the, you know,
the angle, it's about the grip.
Right in here. You know, they didn't
design these things for older women.
Why does everything
have to hurt when you're our age?
Well, try another one.
Maybe you just haven't found
the right cookie rumbler yet.
I looked. Online. Nothing.
You know,
my friend Clifford loves to knit
and he has hands like
bouquets of turkey jerky.
He uses bamboo needles
with a soft gel sleeve.
Hmm.
Are you suggesting
I use his knitting needles?
No.
Well...
No.
Where's your boyfriend?
I like him.
Why would I bring him here?
Mmm.
"For Grace. Thinking of you.
With love, Robert."
Wow!
Ohh...
"Happy Anniversary.
To Grace, from Robert with love."
Hm.
"Sorry you had a bad day.
Love, Robert."
"Just because. Love, Robert."
"To Grace. Happy Birthday."
"Thanks for the help. Love, Robert."
"I miss you too. Love, Robert."
"Love, Robert." "Love, Robert."
"Congratulations. You won."
- This is not going to hurt.
- Oh, well done, Sol.
Well done.
Seriously?
Oh, I forgot all about those.
Why would you do this?
So I was prepared for any occasion.
So, for example, I'd had a bad day,
you'd come to the box and give me a gift.
-That you bought years earlier.
-Yes. Except they were in a drawer then.
-Big picture, Robert.
-Ooh, pretty.
I don't understand the problem.
The problem is
you don't understand the problem.
- I don't.
- They're not personal!
This feels like
a jar of treats for a dog!
So, you're saying
you don't want any of these?
It most certainly is personal.
I picked out each and every one of them
with you in mind.
From that store you like.
Oh, Robert, it doesn't matter
where you got them.
- It's why you got them.
- I give up.
I don't buy you a gift, you're mad.
I do buy you a gift, you're mad.
-Those aren't the only options.
-No, they are not.
-Would you do this to Sol?
-No, he would not!
Don't bring me into this.
Would you go out and buy him
30 pairs of huaraches?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
I used to think, "God, how nice.
Robert went out and got me something
because he knew I was sad."
Or "Robert got me something special
because he knew I was right
and he was wrong."
But that wasn't it at all.
It wasn't for me at all. It was for you!
So you didn't have to deal with me.
So you didn't even have to
think about me.
We'd have a fight and
you'd give me a gift from your stash.
I used to think you gave me gifts because,
I don't know, you weren't a talker.
But it was to keep me quiet.
Huh? To manage me. To handle me.
Never, not once
was it because you loved me.
I never understood our marriage
until right now.
For God sakes, Grace, we're divorced.
Aren't we past this?
-Well, I'm not.
-Where is this coming from?
I am still being treated
the way I was for 40 years,
and I am not gonna settle for it anymore.
Neither am I. I've got a belly
full of rage and martini.
Sol lied to me about Kenny Loggins.
He never bought my painting.
Yes! Yes, he did.
Yeah, we've heard that story
a billion times.
Yeah. Yeah. "He saw it on the wall
at Dad's office"--
No! Lies, lies! All lies!
You can't compare this lie
to my other lies.
The other lies were self-serving.
This one was for you.
-How generous of you.
-Oh, come on, Frankie.
-No. You humiliated me.
-I was trying to help!
I believed in you
and I wanted you to believe in you.
Oh, if you believed in me
you would not have sold me
a bag of magic beans.
He had the best of intentions.
Oh, he always does when he lies.
Apparently, he thinks I'm a child
he has to coddle.
Okay. Okay, everyone, let's--
Let's just all take a breath.
-Mom, I get that this sucks...
-No.
...but Dad's heart was in the right place.
No, what about my heart?
Does anyone get
why I am royally cheesed?
Yeah, I get it. I think.
What's "cheesed"?
She's wicked pissed.
Oh, yeah. Then I do get it,
because I'm really cheesed, too.
At least Sol humored her out of love.
What were you coming from?
Oh, right, expediency.
Oh, fine. Take me to court.
I'd love to hear your argument.
"Your Honor,
my ex-husband is a very bad man
because he bought me presents."
In bulk! Like you buy toilet paper!
Mom, don't you think
you're being a little hard on Dad?
I mean, he did think of you.
Just because they think they were
being nice doesn't mean they were.
Just to circle back, Mom, all of this
jewelry is free and clear now?
Sol, don't you understand
how disrespectful you were being?
You're acting as if I was trying to
hurt her when it was just the opposite.
I was not belittling her
or dismissing her.
Oh, really? Because "her" is in the room
and you keep calling her "her."
It feels a little dismissive to her.
I can't believe that you of all people--
Yeah, you, are talking about
being disrespectful to our mother.
Because we had front-row seats
for your drunken outburst.
Oh, you're bad at this.
You're bad at calming people down.
I didn't mean those things.
I was angry, but I didn't mean them.
I didn't. I swear. I'm so sorry.
-Apology accepted. Mmm.
-I'm so sorry.
But that doesn't mean I'm not
royally cheesed at the rest of you.
- What did we do?
- You!
You turned me into a little old lady
who's losing her mind
and shouldn't even be allowed to drive.
And I'm just a dupe who couldn't
possibly have any good advice to give.
-And you--
-Oh, God.
You said you wouldn't hire me
because I'd overshadow you.
But I gave you the first new idea that
Say Grace has had since you took over--
Well, we gave you the first idea,
and you never acknowledged it.
You took credit for it
and then you threw Frankie to the curb.
Mom, you try being in business with her.
Well, I might. I will.
-I am!
-You are?
Well, yeah. We talked about it.
- Oh, yes. We talked about it.
- What are we doing?
What are we doing? I'll tell you
what we're doing. We're...
We're making vibrators
for women with arthritis.
Yes! Vibrators! Brilliant!
-Please let my water break!
-I think I just blacked out.
Oh, grow up.
Older women masturbate too.
-Mom!
-And we have vaginas.
Why is it every time
my family gathers for a meal
someone has to bring up
my mother's vagoo?
-Just say "woodle" like a grownup.
-Okay.
I highly doubt
there's a vibrator market
for geriatric women with arthritis.
There is. I'm in agony.
It takes a lot longer
for us to get off, Sol.
-Oh!
-That's cold, Mom.
She's right.
Our blood doesn't flow as easily
-and our genital tissue is more delicate.
-Stop.
-I did some reading.
-Oh, God.
The more effort it takes
to orgasm, the more you irritate it,
and the more it inflames
your arthritis.
And I mean shouldn't older women
have it better than that?
Couldn't we fight for the right
to masturbate after lunch?
Seriously, Mom.
How do I explain to my children
that their grandma makes sex toys
for other grandmas?
I'll tell you what you can
tell them, honey.
We're making things for people like us,
because we are sick and tired
of being dismissed by people like you.
Mic drop. Let's go home.
Oh, um, if you guys are going,
I should probably go with you.
No, no, you're gonna have to do
your Mom-and-Coyote time somewhere else,
because we've got
a lot going on at our house.
Yeah.
What do you think of these?
Yeah, I'm gonna take these definitely.
Babe would be proud of us.
Don't talk about Babe
like she's not here.
Sorry. Sorry.
I feel bad.
I ruined Bud's birthday party.
But we made a hell of an exit,
didn't we?
Oh, we did.
Are we still gonna
do this business thing?
Yes. Easy-grip vibrators
with large-print instructions.
Absorbent, non-hideous panties for women
who suffer from bladder control issues.
"Don't have time to get to the bathroom?
Why bother?"
You know, why don't we
call them "Why Bothers"?
But you know something?
We can do anything we want.
Right, Babe?
-She said, "Right."
-I heard her.
You know, if I ever wanted
to do what Babe did--
I mean, I won't, but if I ever did...
you'd be the one I'd ask.
You too, Mama.
Shake.
Babe! Oh, shit! Help me scoop her up!
-No!
-Before the wind takes her away!
I don't even like to touch people
when they're alive.
Babe loves the beach.
Oh!
I got some Babe in my mouth.
Savory.
Yeah, a little...